


Nova

by Sunvori



Category: ONF (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, An Exorbitant Amount Of Italics, Blood, Complicated Descriptions For Said Worldbuilding, Cussing, Except for Magicians, First Meetings, Fluff, Found Family But Make It Gay, Getting to Know Each Other, Graphic Descriptions of Action Scenes, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Homegrown World Building, Hurt/Comfort, I Call Them Magicians For The Irony, I Pick and Choose The Myth Vernacular I Wanna Use Because It's My AU And I Do What I Want, M/M, Magic, Magical Realism, Mild Angst, Minseok Mentioned In Passing, Pining, Polyamory, Self Inflicted Violence, Since It's All In Changyoon's POV, Slow Burn, So All We Get Is His Interpretations Of Things, Spit Ingestion, Strangers to Lovers, That End With Injury, There Might Be Smut In The Future, Unreliable Narrator, Witches, plot heavy, spit, stuck together, the slowest of burns, who knows - Freeform, will update tags as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25480720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunvori/pseuds/Sunvori
Summary: At the tender age of 25, Changyoon found himself in the cheapest apartment he could find in a large city that he’d never been to. He didn’t exactly resent his parents for kicking him out of his childhood home and town, but he did find himself calling less than he probably should. While their intentions of getting Changyoon out and experiencing all the city could offer were fine and dandy, he couldn’t help but count down the days until his parents would allow him to return.And, call him crazy, but Changyoon was pretty sure finding himself trapped in a cardboard box of a home with 5 boys who claimed magic was real probably wasn’t what his parents had in mind.---♡---“So, I’m stuck here," concluded Changyoon with a blank look.“Well, yes. At least until we figure something out,” said Hyojin, not unkindly.
Relationships: Everyone/Everyone, Lee Changyoon | E-Tion/Everyone, OT6 - Relationship
Comments: 41
Kudos: 67





	1. Act 1: Places, Please

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please read all of the tags. This is a plot driven fic, with added mixes of common emotions like happiness and sadness and everything in between that I'll try to depict accordingly. But this is also an OT6 romance fanfic where I do whatever the hell I really want and if I want spitting in my fic, there will be spitting. I will tag accordingly, but please read them all, you might find one in there that might surprise you.
> 
> And with that, we are off!! I've been putting a lot of love into this fic and I really hope it can bring some joy to someone else's life ♡

Changyoon hummed along to the song stuck in his head, a light tune that he couldn’t hear well over the rush of wind past his ears, as he flicked his eyes down to his phone to check up on his course. Panic seized up his chest and caused him to squawk out a sour note when he realized that his turn had happened upon him much sooner than expected. Impulsivity, he took a sudden right with the moped, just barely making his turn off.

“Sh _it!_ ” swore Changyoon as he overcorrected the turn, wheels letting out a tiny screech as he swerved back to a balanced position.

Changyoon sagged into his seat as the adrenaline seeped out of his system. A quick check up on his phone and he let out a relieved sigh at the sight of it still strapped into its mount on the bike’s handlebars. All in all, Changyoon was just happy that everything survived the chaos as he continued down the road.

He was still getting used to the small intricacies of the finicky delivery moped, having only just started this job two weeks ago, but it didn’t take long for Changyoon to figure out that the bike was probably on its last legs of life. It was old, not well maintained, and honestly, Changyoon was surprised it even still ran. Whenever he so much as took a turn a little too sharply, it overshot the bike, leaving Changyoon to scramble to find his balance.

Not that Changyoon knew anything about mopeds and their life expectancy or how they were supposed to run, he’d only just learned how to ride one a little over a month ago so he could get this delivery job in the first place.

Luckily, that turn had gotten him to his last delivery of the day's neighborhood. He was still feeling a bit shook up from it, the wheels had never _screeched_ before, and was looking forward to just dropping the bike back off at work and no longer having to worry about the thing falling apart from under his ass. Well, at least not until his next shift. Maybe he could think of a way to convince Bin to trade mopeds, if only for the day...

Changyoon glanced down to his phone’s navigation and cursed again, having to hang a quick left this time. His mind really wasn’t on the road this trip.

Changyoon shook his head, trying to rattle loose whatever was clogging up his brain after getting a handle on the bike from his second haphazard turn. Ever since he had left the restaurant for this delivery, he had started to feel… off. It wasn’t anything obvious or tangible, just this fleeting feeling at the edge of his awareness. If he were to describe it, he would say that it felt like there was this static pulse that buzzed around just under his skin. He’d never felt anything like it before.

Whatever it was, it was distracting as hell and made it hard for Changyoon’s mind to focus on the road.

Two, thankfully, uneventful turns later and Changyoon was pulling up to his destination.

As Changyoon kicked the moped’s kickstand until it finally snapped down, he took note of just how different this house was. The rest of the street had been full of decently sized and well maintained houses, so the sight of the, well, underwhelming house in front of him was something to take note of. Changyoon couldn’t help but stare as he walked around to the back of the moped and opened up the delivery box that held the food. There really wasn’t much of a front yard to speak of. The whole thing was just foliage on top of foliage, grass and bushes and trees just left to grow unhindered to the point that it was hard to admit that it was a yard at all.

The only sign of human obstruction was a small path that led from the sidewalk to the front door, which was less of a path and more of just three stepping stones. It was all nicely bracketed off from the road and the next door neighbors with a short white fence that had definitely seen better days. Changyoon took note that he was probably going to have to duck the whole way to the front door. 

Changyoon placed the first bag of food onto the sidewalk before reaching back in for the second. He was pretty sure this was his largest delivery to date, which wasn’t saying too much since he had only just started, but he still estimated that the amount packed up could easily feed at least eight people. Luckily his work had been able to package all of it neatly into just two, admittedly large bags. It was convenient since it meant he could bring all of it up in one trip, but it didn’t make the haul any less heavy.

So he hefted up the order, making sure to lift with his legs, and made his way up to the door.

It was when Changyoon stepped onto the first stepping stone that he felt a sudden rush of _something_ flow down his spine, chilling him to his core. Before he could even react, the feeling had compressed in and then faded out. Or more like it had been sucked all the way in, absorbed, until it was completely gone, leaving behind no trace of it even happening. Slightly jarred, Changyoon paused on the first step and looked around curiously. He squinted up to the sky, thinking maybe a sudden downpour? But nope, not even a cloud in sight. He ticked his head to the side and dismissed the feeling as he stepped to the next stone.

Only to hear a loud _whack_ , followed immediately by searing pain, directly to his arm, causing him to drop that arm’s bag of food. Intense and immediate panic roared through his veins when he looked and saw a large welt puff up along his skin. A second _whack_ , then a third _whack_ as pain branded itself onto his leg and his back, causing him to stumble forward, face planting into the grass.

“What the _fuck?!_ ” screeched Changyoon as he flipped around so he could see who was attacking him. His sustained wounds stung like a bitch as he laid there, but it was a faded thought on the edges of his mind as he wildly looked around, only to see the empty yard stretched out in front of him. 

Adrenaline pulsed through him as his chest heaved up and down. Then, to the right, Changyoon spotted movement. He whipped his face towards it, only to have his head snap to the left as hot pain bloomed across his cheek.

Dazed, Changyoon watched as a tree branch to his left came to life before whipping out to snap at his hand, leaving behind angry red skin. 

Panic stricken, Changyoon could only watch on as the trees that surrounded him came to life. All too quickly, the place seemed to creak and crack to life, branches twisting with sickening loud crunches, like they were breaking away from the confines that kept them immobile, before they flashed towards him, whipping at any part of him they could get too. Changyoon gaped in horror as a particularly strong whip cut into his jeans, leaving torn open flesh behind. Instantly, blood welled up and seeped into the ripped fabric. He would have thought he was hallucinating if not for the blaring reminders that this was reality that pulsed hotly against his skin after every new strike from the branches.

Changyoon vaguely registered someone screaming as he raised his arms up to cover his head, protecting himself the best he could from the onslaught of branches, only leaving behind white hot pain. It wasn’t until he pulled up his legs to curl into a ball, and the screaming started to echo back to him, that he realized that it was coming from him.

Then, from behind him, Changyoon heard the sound of a door slamming open, the resounding thud startling him enough to snap him out of his screaming fit. But the attack didn’t let up, quick and precise whips still making their marks all across his body. Changyoon tasted blood in his mouth. He was sure his skin was starting to split open after each and every impact, the pain only getting worse and worse the longer the beating lasted.

Just when Changyoon couldn’t think it could get any worse, there was suddenly an added sensation. Instead of just the quick precise whip of pain before receding, Changyoon felt something grab and then _pull_ him. Both his arms had become seized and he thrashed against the hold as he felt his ass drag along the yard, fear peaking to new heights. Without warning, a voice spoke directly in his ear. He looked to his left and saw hands, at least three of them, grabbing his arm. To his right, two grabbing that one.

Then, right when he was pulled past the house's threshold, the attack ceased. It was a relief, if only a slight one. There was still the _pain_. So much pain as the welts pulsed to his heartbeat, angry and insistent even after the assault was over. The worst of the pain came from his back as he laid on the floor, putting pressure directly onto those wounds. Changyoon clenched his teeth tightly, trying to grit through the pain. As he stared up to the ceiling above him, five other people came into view, staring down at him.

“Ow,” whispered Changyoon into the silent air above him. It really didn’t do any justice to just _how much_ pain he was in, but there wasn’t really much else to be said after all his screaming. Plus, as Changyoon swallowed down the spit and blood in his mouth, he felt just how raw his throat had gotten from all said screaming.

Above him, after his voice had broken the tense air around them, chaos ensued. So many voices resounded around the room, all of them loud and speaking over each other.

“Oh my _God_!”

“How could he have—”

“God, I _knew_ something was about to happe—!”

“How did he—”

“Let’s get him up.”

Then, before Changyoon could even hope to try and start to decipher which voices belonged to which boy, there was renewed pain that flashed through his arm.

“ _Ow!!_ ” yelled Changyoon pointedly to the boy to his right, who had grabbed his arm and pulled him up to his feet.

“But you shouldn’t—?” started the boy who had got him up, his hair a stark red against the white walls of the room they were in.

“Let’s get him to the couch,” interrupted the boy to his left, his hair a bright white that did blend into the white walls behind him, who gingerly reached under to Changyoon’s left armpit to take on as much of his weight as he could. It was probably the only place he could find that didn’t have any wounds. To his right, the red haired boy mirrored his actions.

Changyoon winced the whole way as his clothes brushed and caught against his fresh wounds. Just existing at this point was just pain, pain and more pain, as if there was no clean spot left on him that didn’t resound with it. When they had made it to the couch, he was helped to sit down as gently as possible, but that only helped so much. At this point, Changyoon was surprised he hadn’t passed out from the pain and shock of it all back out in the yard. Honestly, he still hoped that it might happen, if only to give him a small reprieve.

“Ow ow ow ow,” chanted Changyoon as he settled down. He felt like standing might have been the better option, but now that his body was coming down from the adrenaline and panic of the attack, there was only pain and an overwhelming wave of fatigue in its wake.

When he looked up, Changyoon noticed a small trail of blood along the beige carpet all the way to where he was.

He felt queasy at the sight. 

“I think he’s in shock,” said a deep voice, a boy with short black hair that hung back from the huddle the other four boys had made around him.

“He’s still in pain,” said the redhead, his voice and face an equal amount of shocked disbelief.

The boy to his left, a shorter boy with light brown hair, glanced to the redhead and blanched at the sight. Then, he was running off to somewhere deeper in the house with a call of, “I’ll go get the first aid kit,” before he was out of sight.

“Oh, I got it,” said the last boy for Changyoon to identify, a boy with a light voice and dark hair. Changyoon watched as the boy came forward, past the small bubble of space the group of boys had left around him and reached out. He felt his chin lift up, one of the few places on his body that could be touched without a flash of pain afterward it seemed, before the boy grabbed it between his thumb and forefinger, forcing his mouth to open.

For a small, fleeting second, Changyoon was convinced he was about to be kissed.

Instead, the boy puckered his lips and spit directly into Changyoon’s mouth. The boy forced him to close his mouth around it before he could even process what had just happened. Changyoon could feel it tingle in his mouth for all of a second before it faded off, just as it had reached the back of his throat.

Bonelessly, Changyoon fell back against the couch, all fear of irritating his wounds forgotten. Surely, his soul had just vacated his body. It was fed up with the assault and the over stimulus of pain and emotions and the fact that a stranger has just _spit into his mouth, what the fuck_ , had been enough to forcibly displace his entire soul. He now just felt numb, and only the fleeting thought of, ‘no, _now_ I’m in shock’ was what allowed him to fight off the fading edges of consciousness long enough to hear that same light voice say, “Uh, I don’t think it worked,” just as the light brown haired boy returned with the kit.

From there on, it really started to get fuzzy. He barely registered his body getting moved and adjusted before he could feel his work shirt getting cut off him. Barely conscious enough to notice the rearrangement of his limbs so that he was now laying on the couch as someone cleaned him up, the sting of disinfectant not even a blip on his radar after what he’d been through. 

Then, finally, the bliss of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice, small introduction chapter! But don't let that fool you, this thing is going to be loonnggg. I already have 20k words written for it! :O


	2. Taking Root

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Now that we are past what is pretty much just the prologue, the main story can begin! I hope everyone enjoys!

“—ast the barrier.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think it was possible. Minseok’s spells were impenetrable.”

“Wha—?” croaked Changyoon as he slowly sat up, because surely, he must have hit his head somewhere in that whole ordeal. There was no way he had just heard that correctly.

Thankfully, the initial sting of fresh wounds had faded off in his sleep, but putting pressure on them still flared up the pain, so he winced the whole way up.

“Why don’t you sleep some more? It’ll probably help,” said the redhead. Changyoon could see the concern in his eyes, they practically dripped with it.

Changyoon ignored him as he sat up straight. Here, he was finally able to completely take in his surroundings. 

He was inside the house, obviously. He took note that it was just as small inside as it looked like it would be from the outside. There was barely even enough room for the couch he was residing on, the loveseat to the couch’s left, the coffee table, and the entertainment center, which was absolutely filled to the brim with items and knickknacks, video game consoles and said games for them. The walls were all white, plain, but there was a poster up of a band that Changyoon had never heard of and a landscape painting of a canyon. Neither looked like they belonged.

It all gave Changyoon a hard ‘rented bachelor pad’ vibe, the type where no one living there really knew how interior decorating worked, but it didn’t really matter since it was a temporary space anyways. 

Well, there was just one teeny tiny detail that Changyoon took in that contradicted the ‘just barely surviving off our combined need to not die’ feel of the place. There were plants. Everywhere.

Nearly every extra spot in the living room was filled with potted plants. If there was space that wasn’t filled with furniture or used as a walkway, there was some form of a plant. Hanging from the ceiling from slings, placed on shelves that barely looked strong enough to support the added weight and even placed directly onto the floor. Even the coffee table in front of him only had enough room for _maybe_ three drink cups if they were squished together since the rest of it was just filled with potted plants.

Changyoon eyed all of it wearily. He didn’t trust such conflicting signals. Like, how could people who couldn’t even keep an organized game collection have the combined ability to not only grow, but to sustain growth, on so many plants?

In various places around the living room, Changyoon noted all five of the boys were still gathered. Closest to him were the redhead and the white haired boys, who had pulled up what looked to probably be their dining room chairs to sit on the other side of the coffee table. To Changyoon’s left was the boy who had spit in his mouth, sprawled out on the loveseat, a leg hooked over the armrest. All the way across the room, Changyoon saw the boy with the deep voice leaning against the opening to the kitchen, and to Changyoon’s right, he saw the last boy leaning against the entrance to what must be the hallway to the rest of the house. Changyoon couldn’t help but notice the look in this boy’s eyes, which were unblinking and bore past his physical form and straight to his soul. He felt laid out bare under them. Changyoon fought off a shiver and looked away.

“But you’ll need more sleep for your body to recover well. You took quite the beating,” said the white haired boy this time.

“...I don’t want to sleep anymore,” stated Changyoon, feeling the palms of his hands start to sweat.

Changyoon's fight or flight instincts kicked into hyperdrive when his foggy brain was able to process his situation. He had just been assaulted to the point of passing out, dragged into an unfamiliar home filled with complete strangers _and_ he was left completely shirtless, his work shirt torn to shreds during the assault and undoubtedly tossed into the trash. He felt raw and vulnerable, laid bare figuratively and literally, and way past his ability to stay calm. 

Let alone someone had _spit in his mouth!_ None of this was normal and he needed to get the fuck outta dodge as soon as possible. 

“I…,” trailed off Changyoon as his eyes slid over to the front door. Belatedly, he noticed that the trail of blood that he had left on the way in was completely cleaned up, no sign left of it ever happening, not even a smudge mark. But how could that be? The carpet was light and Changyoon _knew_ he saw it... Didn’t he?

 _Whatever_ , dismissed Changyoon. That was the least of his worries.

Before the idea had even fully formed in his mind, Changyoon was on his feet and sprinting towards the door.

But all too quickly, it became apparent what he was trying to do. A small panicked sound came from someone in the room and all of them rushed forward before Changyoon could cover even half of the distance. 

Instantly, all of Changyoon’s muscles tensed up. He turned to get his back up against the closest wall and lifted his fists to a fighting position. Panic surged through his veins again, and honestly, he was getting quite sick of it. Never in his life had he had such a constant and unending stream of things to panic about.

Changyoon must have looked every part of the scared and deranged animal he felt, trapped with nothing to lose since all of the boys halted in their tracks at the sight.

“I’m leaving,” commanded Changyoon as steadily as he could. Then, he again bolted for the door, not even giving any of the strangers time for a rebuttal. And he did make it this time, except, now there was a new problem that Changyoon hadn’t expected. For some reason, the door wasn’t budging. Changyoon yanked with all his might, checked and double checked, that no locks were keeping it shut and only yanked harder when he was sure it should have opened.

The spitter let out a deep, relieved sigh. “Quick thinking Jaeyoung.”

“Let me out!” yelled Changyoon to no one in particular. He didn’t even really know why, how could someone be responsible for the door not budging? But the spitter’s words begged to differ. 

“You can’t leave!” yelled back the white haired boy, startling Changyoon. 

“Wha—what?! Why not?” questioned Changyoon indignantly, giving the doorknob another tug for emphasis. 

"You'll only get hurt more," explained the white haired boy.

“Please, sit,” placated the redhead with outreached hands, palms up and fingers splayed wide, a placating gesture that tried to convince Changyoon they weren’t a threat. “We know you must be scared, but we’ll explain.”

At the mention of an explanation, weirdly enough, Changyoon could feel the pull of wanting to stay. Sure, it was probably a monumentally dumb idea to stay any longer, and only seconds ago, he was trying his damndest to leave this place. But there was a part of him that longed for an explanation. He had just been attacked by _trees_ and that was a mystery that would haunt him to the grave if he didn’t get some sort of explanation, no matter how improbable it was.

"Hyojin," spoke up the boy from the hallway’s entrance, "is that really the best idea? _Nothing_ works on him and we don't know how he made it past the barrier."

“I know you’re worried,” started the named Hyojin.

The light brown haired boy scoffed at that before interjecting, “ _And_ we shouldn’t be telling him anything anyways. He’s just a normal human.”

“But then why did the trees react?” asked the white haired boy.

Changyoon looked back to the light brown haired boy, taking note that he had straightened up from where he had been leaning but hadn’t gone any further into the room. He was the only boy who hadn’t moved after Changyoon, everyone else on their feet and surrounding him by the door.

Changyoon felt a rumble of irritation roll though him. It ticked him off that someone was trying to argue the case of _not_ explaining anything to him. Changyoon squinted, thought it over, and ultimately knew he was going to throw his escape plan to the wayside, at least for now.

"He's scared and hurt because of us. Because of our negligence. He deserves to at least know why he's hurt," said Hyojin.

"What does that mean?" accused Changyoon. "What do you mean by ‘normal human’? By 'nothing works'? What did you do to me?!" Changyoon looked at his bare chest incredulously, noting all the gauze and bandages. Damn, he really did get the shit beat out of him, didn’t he?

"Nothing!" exclaimed Hyojin. 

"And that's the problem," spoke up Spit Boy, sounding miffed by it. "This has never happened before. For some reason, our magic doesn’t work on you.”

"Magic?" And that’s where they really lost Changyoon. Sure, they had been throwing around dumb fantasy words like barrier and spells earlier and sure, they really did act strange, like being surprised by his pain and had killer trees in their front yard and _apparently_ spit into people’s mouths but this? Magic? If Changyoon hadn’t already passed the line, he would have drawn one there.

“Please, sit,” said the white haired boy with a sigh, repeating Hyojin’s earlier words.

Changyoon eyed them all wearily. All four of the boys that made up the semicircle around him were watching him closely, probably to make sure he didn’t try and bolt out the door again. The only one whose eyes Changyoon didn’t meet were the hallway’s lingerer, who was back to leaning against the entryway, his arms crossed over his chest this time around. 

Weirdly enough, it was that boy’s flippant attitude towards him that had Changyoon slowly inching back into the living room. At the sight of him returning, the rest of them parted and allowed him his space. When he made it back to the couch, all the rest had returned to their earlier positions, except for the short haired boy, who was now sitting on the loveseat’s armrest. 

As Changyoon went to sit, he patted his back pocket habitually, only to feel the color drain from his face. “Fuck, where’s my phone?” 

"Did you have it on you?" asked the deep voiced boy, already standing up.

"I—, no. I think I left it on the bike.”

"Outside?"

Changyoon nodded. At that, he watched the boy walk to the front door and open it without even touching any of the locks. Changyoon blinked in disbelief. It hadn’t even budged when he yanked on it with all his strength. 

“Okay, first. How about introductions?” started White Hair, drawing Changyoon’s attention.

“I’m Hyojin,” said the red haired boy, hand on his chest to indicate himself. 

“Seungjoon,” said the white haired boy, a small kind smile on his face. 

“I’m Minkyun," said the boy on the loveseat with a smile that highlighted a pair of deep set dimples. Changyoon would have mentally admitted that it was insanely attractive, if not for the fact that Changyoon knew what his spit tasted like.

“...Yuto,” said the wallflower.

“And I’m Jaeyoung,” said the last boy, who returned and handed over Changyoon’s phone. He eyed it with disbelief before grabbing it. Changyoon was almost 100% positive Jaeyoung hadn’t taken a single step outside. Maybe it had fallen out of his pocket when he was getting dragged inside? “And you?”

“I’m Changyoon,” said Changyoon as he stared down at his phone. The display read that it was already past nine in the evening, which meant he'd been passed out for roughly four hours, along with three missed calls from work. _Shit,_ he was _so_ fired. They probably thought he had absconded with the moped, never to be seen from again. As if anyone would want that piece of junk anyway.

“How about we start with why I’d get hurt if I left,” said Changyoon sternly, trying not to think about how he could even begin to explain to work what had happened.

“We’ll… get there,” said Hyojin with a concentrated look on his face, like he was sorting his thoughts. After a few beats of silence, he must have finally found a starting point. “This might be hard to believe, as someone who doesn’t seem to know about magic, but all five of us are magic users.

“We all met throughout different avenues of our lives, but have ultimately decided to live together and start a business. What we do is make and sell elixirs to other people who also have magic. This house is Jaeyoung’s,” At that, Jaeyoung lifted his hand with a small, “Yo.”, “and Seungjoon and I make the elixirs with Minkyun’s magic being the center of our main product. You could call all of us my—,” Seungjoon gave him a pointed look and Hyojin jumped before rubbing his arm like his had gotten punched, “ _and_ Seungjoon’s coven.”

“Uh huh,” said Changyoon, nodding like he was following along to any of that, “Then what about him? Yuto, right?” asked Changyoon as he pointed over to him.

Yuto pointed to himself incredulously. Changyoon just nodded with a ‘get on with it’ hand gesture. “They all seem to have a ‘role’,” with added finger quotes, “So what’s yours?”

“I’m just here for the bond of covenship and love and all that fun stuff,” said Yuto with a shrug. 

“Ah. Covenship and love and stuff. Makes sense,” said Changyoon as unsarcastically as he could manage.

“He helps with the books for the business, too,” tagged on Seungjoon with a friendly smile.

“We’re humans,” said Hyojin, regaining control of the conversation, “but not completely. We were born from magical families, with magic flowing through us and with the ability to wield that magic. All the logistics of it can get pretty long and boring, but to put it simply, we can do many types of magic, but have difficulty learning or simply can’t learn them all based on our genes. But we are born with something we call a ‘specialization’. Basically, it’s just a specific type of magic we’re inherently good at. Most people spend their lives refining their specialization over learning other magic that they would have much less success in executing anyways.”

Jaeyoung let out a low, impressed whistle. “It’s almost like you rehearsed that,” said Jaeyoung with a laugh. Hyojin bowed with a flourish in his seat, prompting Jaeyoung and Minkyun to applaud him. 

But Changyoon could only stare at them, knowing his face was just a slate of disbelief. Because what? What sane person would actually believe that shpiel? 

“So what? You guys witches?” asked Changyoon jokingly.

“Aren’t witches exclusively women?” asked Seungjoon with a thoughtful hand holding his chin. When he looked to the loveseat, both Minkyun and Jaeyoung shrugged their shoulders. 

“Alright, well, you can’t expect me to believe any of that,” Hyojin opened his mouth, but Changyoon cut him off before he could say anything, “without a demonstration.” 

“Well,” started Hyojin, face scrunching up as he thought, “Mine and Minkyun’s magic doesn’t work on you.” Changyoon sent him an unimpressed look at that. “ _But_ Seungjoon should be able to give a proper demonstration.”

Seungjoon hopped to his feet at that and bounced to the kitchen. Changyoon could hear him rifling around in there for a bit before returning with a cup of water and a lighter.

“Seungjoon’s specialization is what we call Elemental Manipulation,” continued Hyojin as Seungjoon scooted a plant to the side so he could put the items down on the coffee table in front of him. 

Changyoon lifted a skeptical eyebrow at that. “I’m going to assume that means he can manipulate the elements?” 

“Yep,” said Seungjoon, popping the P. “Here, this is how I water the plants.” 

Then, no matter how much Hyojin’s speech should have warned him, nothing could have prepared Changyoon for what happened next. Slowly, Seungjoon waved his hand over the cup, to which, just as slowly, the water from within started to rise. Changyoon didn’t even mind that he felt his jaw fall open, completely entranced with the sight before him, as the water slowly lifted all the way out of the cup. It was in one complete blob and looked like how the water looked in those videos of astronauts messing around with it in space. 

Then, a little more waving from his hand and the ball started to disperse into smaller globs until there was an equal amount to the number of plants on the table. Lazily, the water blobs traveled through the air and then sunk until they touched soil, quickly getting sucked up by the plants. 

“I don’t actually have to do the hand waving, but it’s more fun that way,” said Seungjoon cheekily. He then picked up the lighter and quickly flicked it on. Instantly, the flame lifted away from the lighter. Seungjoon put that down and then started to bounce the flame between his hands. The ball of fire then divided into three separate flames before Seungjoon started to pantomime a juggling motion, the flames following suit. Another round of applause from the peanut gallery on the loveseat. “I’m not able to ‘make’ anything either. I have to be touching it or have it pretty close to use my magic.”

“His favorite thing is shocking people since everyone usually has static clinging to them,” pipped up Minkyun. Seungjoon waggled his fingers threateningly at Minkyun, who sunk deeper into his seat, hiding most of his body behind Jaeyoung, who was just laughing at the scene.

“I—,” started Changyoon before cutting himself off, his throat closing up around anything he might have said. A hard swallow around his throat to clear it, then, “So you’re the avatar.”

“Yeah, totally!” exclaimed Seungjoon as he pointed to Changyoon, the flames continuing their juggling act even without Seungjoon’s hands.

There was a strange ball of emotion forming in Changyoon’s stomach as he watched Minkyun squawk and cower even farther into his seat, ducking down as far as he could go as Seungjoon set the fireballs to go and divebomb at his head, laughing maniacally the whole time.

A bit startling, Changyoon identified the feeling as excitement.

“And everyone else? What else can you guys do?” asked Changyoon to Hyojin, who had been happy to just sit back and watch the scene play out in front of him. 

Hyojin sat back up at that, a ghost of a knowing smile on his lips. “How about more demonstrations instead?” 

“Me next!” said Jaeyoung who hoped up from the armrest, cracking his knuckles with a flourish. “My Specialization is Space Displacement,” and with that, Changyoon noticed the boy slowly rose up in the air, as if he himself had become one of the astronauts from the videos, no longer bound to the pull of gravity. “What that means is that I can control where things are in ‘space’, like so.”

And with that, Jaeyoung motioned to the couch. Quizzically, Changyoon looked down at the couch cushions underneath him. Belatedly, he only just now realized that his blood had soaked into the fabric from when he had first arrived. Now, it was all just hard and flaky stains dried into the cushions. Then, there was movement, but Changyoon wasn’t quite sure what he was witnessing. It took a few seconds, but he finally processed that he was watching the blood spots _disappear_ , one by one right before his eyes.

“Wha—,” Changyoon looked up to see Jaeyoung presenting his hand, which was now just full of blood chips, which would have been really gross if not for the fact that Changyoon was in complete awe of how cool it was.

“My range is farther than Seungjoon’s, but I still need to be able to see what I’m displacing,” said Jaeyoung as the handful disappeared. Changyoon could only hope they had made it into a trashcan somewhere.

“Would you be able to teleport someone?” asked Changyoon, not even bothering to hide the excitement in his voice.

“Er, no,” said Jaeyoung as he rubbed at the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed that he had to say no. “I can only move things from one point in my visual range to another point. Plus, I can’t move people or animals. I can with, like, plants though,” And just like that, a few of the plants that had been sitting on the coffee table disappeared, only to instantly appear in other random spots around the room. It was disorienting to watch. It was as if Changyoon’s vision was glitching. Changyoon couldn’t help but stare at Jaeyoung, still amazed he wasn't touching the floor. 

Jaeyoung noticed him looking and shifted his position in the air until he was laying down, hands behind his head and legs crossed, looking as if he was laying in an invisible hammock. Minkyun reached out, grabbed Jaeyoung’s hip, and shoved him, pushing Jaeyoung so that he floated away. Seungjoon and Hyojin had to duck in turn as he went by so they wouldn't get hit as he passed over their heads. 

“And Minkyun? Why’d you have to spit in my mouth?” asked Changyoon, having forgotten his indignation at the boy in lieu of his excitement.

Minkyun laughed, loud and full chested. “You remember that? Well.” Minkyun then stuck out his tongue, a large wad of spit hanging dangerously at the end of it. Changyoon made a disgusted face, but couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the ridiculousness of it.

“Wait wait, demonstrate, don’t tell,” interrupted Hyojin. Changyoon looked over and noticed everyone’s sparks of mirth in their eyes. Even Yuto had stepped forward with a smile gracing his lips so he could observe everyone better. Changyoon got the feeling that everyone hadn’t had an opportunity to show off their magic in such a way in a long time.

“Alright, I’ll take that as you volunteering then?” asked Minkyun with a smirk as he stood up from his spot. 

Hyojin sighed but relented, also standing up. “Anyone got a knife?” asked Hyojin.

Before Changyoon could do any more than scrunch his eyebrows at that, a pocket knife flickered into existence on top of Hyojin’s open palm.

“Thanks,” said Hyojin as Jaeyoung floated back to the group, drifting over to where he had been sitting earlier, but instead of sitting back down, he just floated above the spot.

Changyoon turned his attention back to Hyojin, who had flicked open the pocket knife before pressing it into his arm. 

Changyoon flinched violently, equal parts a knee jerk reaction from watching someone get hurt and a reaction from the sudden self inflicted violence. But, Changyoon noted, Hyojin didn't so much as flinch as he pulled the edge across his skin.

When Hyojin lifted the knife away, Changyoon stared in stunned disbelief when he noticed that it was no small cut. Blood had already welled up and slid down the smooth expanse of his arm, threatening to drop down to the carpet. 

Changyoon’s eyebrows knitted tightly together. He was pretty sure he already had a good idea of what Minkyun’s specialization would be, but the theatrics of it all still concerned him. 

What he hadn’t expected was for Minkyun to grab Hyojin by the nape of his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss, the impact of it nearly making Changyoon wince. Once again, Changyoon felt his jaw drop open, but for a very different reason this time around.

Hyojin was pulled in as close as possible by the hand that held tightly to the back of his neck. Minkyun seemed to tower over him even though he was probably only a couple of inches taller than Hyojin, who was forced to lean up into Minkyun as he dominated the kiss, which was mostly tongue with only a few added nips here and there. Yuto cat called first, which spurred the rest of them to join in.

The kiss probably only lasted a total of ten seconds but felt like eons as Changyoon stared, dumbstruck by the bold display in front of him. He couldn’t have torn his eyes away even if he wanted to. It had been loud and messy and certainly… passionate. Changyoon could even hear just how wet it was from where he was sitting and when they finally pulled apart, there was a trail of spit that linked their lips for a moment before breaking.

“My specialization is Healing Body. So the liquids I produce have healing attributes. I guess I could just spit on the cut, but transferring it through someone's mouth is more effective since it has the ability to spread through your whole body and take care of anything, no matter where, including internal problems,” explained Minkyun as he wiped away the excess spit that had dripped down his chin and returned to his earlier seat. He then turned and winked at Changyoon, which he couldn’t help but cringe at. “And it’s also more fun that way.”

Belatedly, Changyoon remembered to check up on the cut. The only thing left was the blood trail, the cut now completely gone, having healed up so fast that he’d missed it happening. 

“And—and how about,” Changyoon looked around the group, ready to ask for more and more demonstrations, the excitement of it all bubbling just under his skin. Before he could continue, he was interrupted by Hyojin sitting back down and speaking.

“Well, I believe we got off topic.” Changyoon took notice of a smear of pink dusting the tips of his ears and narrowed his eyes. He had the sneaking suspicion Hyojin was just embarrassed and trying to take attention off what had just happened.

Changyoon deflated at that, like every single one of those little excitement bubbles had been popped all at once, by Hyojin was right. This was all so new and exciting and honestly, Changyoon felt like he was going to wake up in his bed any time now, but a quick poke to a particularly large welt on his arm was a painful reminder to the fact that this was happening. So that meant that these guys couldn’t just sit around showing off all night and Changyoon still had a very serious problem on his hands. 

“Yeah, okay,” conceded Changyoon, “please continue.”

Hyojin smiled at that before clearing his throat. “Where was I?”

“Why he can’t leave,” easily supplied Seungjoon.

“Oh yes, okay. So,” said Hyojin as he readjusted himself in his chair, his tone changing to sound like a teacher giving a lecture. “As I said, we can do many types of magic, but usually it's very weak or unpracticed unless it’s our specialization. Since we run our business from this house, we have set up a few precautions to make sure that no one besides us five enters this house. What the barrier is _supposed_ to do is make whoever comes in contact with it put down whatever they have and feel like they had finished whatever they had come here to do. The trees in the yard have a spell on them that basically makes them our magical bodyguards. So if anyone who has any magic in them that isn’t us comes close, they attack.”

Hyojin paused and Changyoon looked around, making eye contact with every boy in the room in turn, all of them staring at him with a wide range of emotions, none of them particularly good.

“But I don't have magic,” blankly stated Changyoon, addressing the elephant in the room.

“Well, the trees sure thought you did,” said Seungjoon with a raised eyebrow, eyeing all of his bandages as if to cement his point.

“Uh.” With the draw to attention, Changyoon became hyper aware that he had been sitting there shirtless this whole time. He pulled his arms up to cover his torso the best he could, which is to say, not very well. “Can I please get a shirt.”

“Oh, I got this!” called Jaeyoung. Suddenly, Changyoon felt warmed fabric against his cooled skin. He looked down and saw he suddenly had a shirt on. Changyoon glanced up and realized it wasn’t just any shirt, but the shirt Jaeyoung had been wearing up till a few seconds ago. Jaeyoung stretched his arms over his head, showing off all his now visible muscles before crossing his arms behind his head. Minkyun and Seungjoon rolled their eyes at the show.

Changyoon felt the awe of it all wash over him, but he tried to stay on topic, returning his eyes to Hyojin. “Okay so, let me get this straight. The trees for some reason think I’m magic and that’s why they’re attacking me? Well, you just need to take it down or do whatever you need to do to get rid of it and I can leave,” stated Changyoon, not really understanding how that was such a long endeavor to conclude to.

“None of us is the person that put those security measures up in the first place,” said Hyojin simply.

“Uh,” said Changyoon.

“Which means we can’t do anything about the trees,” said Yuto, startling Changyoon. He had almost forgotten he had been there since he hadn’t spoken up in a long time. “None of us are strong enough to change or get rid of the spell.”

“His name was Minseok, but he’s since left our coven,” further explained Hyojin, “His specialization was Environmental Spellcasting. The barrier spell was the one we wanted as our main protection since it’s harmless and works on both regular humans and magic wielders. But the barrier spell is very complex and Minseok needed time to prepare it. The spell put on the trees is a relatively simple one in comparison, so we set that one up right when we moved here. We were only planning on keeping the spell on the trees until the barrier spell was complete.”

“And we ended up forgetting that we never got around to taking it down,” pitched in Minkyun, “By the time we remembered, it was already too late to do anything about it. But that hadn’t been a problem until now. Since, somehow, you were able to get past the first line of defense. Which, might I add, has never been done,” finished Minkyun pointedly, eyeing Changyoon. Changyoon put his hands up in a ‘don’t blame me’ gesture.

Suddenly, everyone started to talk at once, reminiscent of what had happened when Changyoon had first been dragged into the house. Changyoon watched the chaos ensue with a blank expression. He suspected that they had reached the point of contention they hadn’t been able to work out before he had interrupted by waking up.

“I don’t think he’s, like, a business rival. His reactions to our magic weren’t fake.”

“So does he or doesn’t he have magic?”

“You can keep the shirt if you want, I have plenty and you’ll need some since you’ll be here for a while.”

“No, we’ll figure something out.”

“But it’s so strange the barrier didn’t work. It works on _everyone_!”

“Well, besides us, obviously.”

“Guys, why is he even here? How is he here? Why is no one worried about that?”

“Anyways!” yelled Hyojin over the noise and everyone calmed down near instantly. Changyoon looked around at them all, surprised that worked. “I’m not done with our dramatic introduction,” said Hyojin with a smile.

“Carry on, my liege,” said Minkyun with a dramatic hand gesture, then yelped in pain. “One of my lieges,” quickly amended Minkyun with a weary look sent to Seungjoon.

“So,” started Hyojin, “that finally leads us back to your initial question. You can’t leave, because we have no way of stopping the trees from attacking you again. We couldn’t even try and run you through real fast since the spell is designed to trap whoever had entered the yard. They would just end up pulling you back in.”

Changyoon felt a sick feeling start to drip down into his stomach as the reality of his situation sunk in.

“Why don’t I just leave through a window? Or even the back door?” asked Changyoon. 

“The trees surround the whole house,” countered Minkyun.

“How about just burning them down?” asked Changyoon desperately. 

“The spell makes them impervious to such destruction tactics. It wouldn’t be a very good security system if it could be destroyed so simply,” said Seungjoon this time with a shake of his head.

“So, I’m stuck here," concluded Changyoon with a blank look. 

“Well, yes. At least until we figure something out,” said Hyojin, not unkindly. 

“Why not just contact that Min-something guy? He would be able to take it down, right?” asked Changyoon, knowing that he was grasping at straws, just throwing out any suggestion he could think of.

“We don’t keep in contact,” answered Seungjoon before Hyojin could. 

Changyoon dropped his head down, letting his head hang loose on his shoulders. Because _fuck_ , really? Was he _really_ stuck here? Sure, learning about all this crazy shit was cool and all, but he couldn’t just _stay here_. He knew nothing about these people. Did they even have room for him? Because if he was going to have to stay on the couch indefinitely, he was going to be pissed.

“...Okay,” relented Changyoon to his chest before lifting his head back up, only to be greeted to five pairs of eyes, all looking at him with varying degrees of pity. Changyoon didn’t like that one bit. 

“It’s getting late,” said Hyojin as he rose from his chair, “Why don’t we find you a charger that fits your phone and get you something to wear to sleep?”

“I just got one last question before we break for the night,” spoke up Changyoon. All the boys looked at him curiously. “What exactly do your people call yourself, if not humans or witches? Wizards? Warlocks?”

Seungjoon laughed at Changyoon’s words, Minkyun and Jaeyoung cracking their own smiles, like they couldn’t believe just how ridiculous it was for Changyoon to think any of those things. But Hyojin leveled a serious look at Changyoon, or at least, mostly did. He wasn’t blind to the twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

“Oh? We’re called Magicians,” said Hyojin matter of factly. 

Changyoon burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know that was probably...Something. But just keep in mind this is just the surface of it all! More detailed explanations regarding magic and the boy's magic specifically to come! Stay tuned!


	3. A Quiet Night

Changyoon stared up to the ceiling, blanket tucked up close under his chin. His mind and body felt utterly exhausted, but here he was, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling, tucked into a stranger's bed, and sleep was the farthest thing on his mind.

Changyoon had felt a semblance of reluctance to take a complete bed, a complete _room_ , but Jaeyoung insisted. He said even having a bed was just a formality since he always just floated off in his sleep even if he tried to lay in it.

When Hyojin had shown him to the room he was going to be given for the length of his stay, Jaeyoung had already floated ahead of them to clean it up the best he could, which was admittedly very well. Changyoon watched in complete awe from the room’s entrance as clothes disappeared from all over the floor to reappear into the laundry basket, to which that then disappeared and reappeared in the hallway, to the left of where he stood.

Changyoon stood stock still as he realized just how _insane_ this was, a flash of fear striking through his chest. What these people had been saying was _real_ , and he was confirming it with his eyes, over and over again as Jaeyoung made quick work of the room.

“This is Jaeyoung and Minkyun’s room. But they’ll move into our room for now so you can have some privacy,” explained Hyojin from Changyoon’s right. Changyoon felt fingertips brush against his own and he jerked his hand away, quickly looking down to see Hyojin slowly retract his hand, but his kind smile never faltered. Instead, he reached up to pat Changyoon’s shoulder, which he allowed this time around. Changyoon had a distinct feeling that Hyojin was trying to comfort him the best he could. Changyoon didn’t know how he felt about it.

Jaeyoung then motioned for them to come in, having almost finished up. Changyoon couldn’t help but startle when he watched one of the beds completely disappear right when he had made it in, to then reappear where he had previously stood in the hallway, leaned up against a wall so that it would fit.

“We’ll need it in our room,” explained Hyojin before Changyoon could ask.

“‘Our’ room?” asked Changyoon, an unsettled feeling rolling around in his stomach. 

“Seungjoon, Yuto, and I share the other room in the house.”

Changyoon felt queasy at that. He was displacing this whole household, making them compact even tighter into this already small home. He felt so many emotions clash around in him at the realization. 

He was thankful to them for giving him space, reluctant to be putting them out so much, adamant that it was the least they could do since he was trapped here because of them, stubborn in the fact that this was more their fault than his that he was stuck here now, afraid of what him being stuck here and how it was partially his fault meant for him. 

These people seemed kind and had rescued him from an attack he was helpless in fending off. They had cleaned him up and tended to his wounds as best they could, had explained his current situation, and now were going the extra mile to make sure he was as comfortable as he could get given the circumstances.

But, now that the initial excitement had worn off, Changyoon was confronted with the fact that the sheer power they had shown was _terrifying_. And he was just human. If they wanted to do something to him, anything, he understood with terrifying clarity that he would be absolutely helpless to do anything about it. And all he’d seen thus far was half of the household’s powers demonstrated in a few cheap parlor tricks. Changyoon couldn’t help but fear what they were capable of if they were to actually try.

Jaeyoung floated out from above their heads, likely going to finish the moving process. Hyojin went over to a dresser and pulled out a new shirt and a pair of pajama pants for Changyoon to change into. Hyojin then started to tell him about where the restroom was, that he was welcome to most everything in the house, etcetera, but Changyoon’s mind had a hard time grasping his words. After how eventful his evening had been, hearing these mundane words of comfort and explanation just didn’t stick, his mind a jumbled mess.

It wasn’t long before Seungjoon had appeared with a phone charger and collected Hyojin, leaving Changyoon alone to stand awkwardly in a weirdly empty room, unsure of what he was supposed to do with himself now.

And today had been… a lot to say the least. It was sad to admit, but even the overhanging sense of doom of having to sort out everything with his job wasn’t even on his radar in comparison to everything else that raced through his mind.

Because Magic? Magic was real? It wasn’t just fiction told in children’s fairy tales and fantasy novels? Changyoon had seen water and fire dance through the air, watched as things disappeared and reappeared in front of his own eyes. He had even gotten an _actual shirt_ put directly on his body in the blink of an eye, watched as a complete bed had blinked out of existence only to reappear where he had been previously standing, and he still was having trouble wrapping his head around it.

In the dark, with only his thoughts to keep him company, he realized he felt like a fish out of water. Like he was way out of his depth. Like the ground under him, something that was tried and true to always be there for his next step, had completely disappeared. He felt lost, further gone than he’s ever felt in his life. Because, apparently, magic was _real_. Which would have been pretty awesome to have found out about, if it wasn’t that very magic that trapped him here in this tiny house, where the walls felt like they were closing in around him, all the available space already taken up by the five other guys who called this place home.

And now the people who had flipped his whole world right on top of itself insisted there was absolutely no way for him to even leave the house. That he was physically stuck here with absolutely nothing he could do about it. 

And he couldn’t even get started on the implication that he had magic himself, and that was apparently why he couldn’t leave this strange house, full of strange people.

Changyoon flipped onto his side, keeping the covers tucked up close. He lamented for his own apartment, still relatively new in his life. He had just signed the lease on the place a month ago, having just moved to this city. Here, in the black of this half empty room, Changyoon felt his eyes sting with unspilled tears.

For what he was getting emotional over, he wasn’t entirely sure. Was he homesick? And not for his bland and empty apartment, but for his childhood home. For the small town he had been raised in, not for this large city that he had moved out to. He hadn’t ever even considered leaving his home town when growing up. Not so much because he loved it, but more that he never felt like he needed more than what it offered. But his parents insisted on him leaving, claiming that it would “expand his world view” or help him "find his calling in life". Changyoon felt himself scoff at that. If only they knew what his ‘world views’ were now.

Or was he just feeling self pity for his situation? For how he felt like a prisoner surrounded by unknown terrors. Felt captive by a new understanding of how the fabric of daily life even worked. That his whole understanding of the world had been turned on its head. By people he had only just met, who terrified him in the most primal way, terrified him just from the basic understanding of how out of his league he was in comparison to them.

The only thing that kept him from splitting at the seams was one simple fact. That, somehow, someway, their magic didn’t work on him. That Minkyun couldn’t heal him. That whatever Hyojin had tried to do to him hadn’t worked. That, even though Changyoon didn’t understand it himself, he had a defense against the only thing he felt completely helpless against. And it was a comfort, the only thing keeping him whole as he stewed in his thoughts in that dark, empty room.

Changyoon sniffed, collected as much of his wits that had spilled out back in, and threw the blanket off him, springing to his feet. A quick glance at his phone before pocketing it told him that he’d been lying there for four hours. Long enough for the slight sounds of the rest of the house's occupants to have faded off hours ago, long enough to reassure Changyoon that he could get up and roam without worry.

Because he had to get out of here. He couldn’t just stay, no matter how much the other boys in the house told him otherwise. He had a life he needed to live, a job he would have to try and mend ties with, a home that he was just starting to spread into. He couldn’t just _stay_.

Changyoon tiptoed down the hallway, thankful that the carpet of the living room reached all the way here, keeping his footfalls muted. He had spotted his shoes by the front door during the evening’s events and he was certain that the moped would still be parked out on the street. He had left the keys in the ignition, not expecting to have been away from the thing for more than a minute, but Changyoon was banking that it was left untouched. And if not, he really was screwed.

Changyoon breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight of his shoes, exactly where he had last seen them. He crossed the distance in a few quick bounds, careful to avoid all of the plants that sat around. He couldn’t turn on any lights, but luckily his eyes had adjusted to the dark long ago. Changyoon was quick to slip his shoes on, even without socks. Those had been lost somewhere between him passing out and now and he really couldn't care less about finding them. A small price to pay for freedom.

And this time, the door opened easily. It hadn’t even been locked, which showed just how much faith the residents put in their security measures. But here, standing in the open doorway, face to face with the empty yard in front of him, Changyoon felt a wave of fear roll over him. He feared pain, who didn’t? And he had way too many reminders on his skin to even doubt the legitimacy of the trees and their ability to inflict it.

But even from here, Changyoon could see the moped, parked exactly where he had left it out by the curb. His stomach swirled, relieved that everything was where it should be. That the only thing keeping him from freedom was his courage and willpower to make it out. Changyoon gulped around his throat, parched. He’d forgotten to ask for some water and his hosts had forgotten to get him any. Did witches even need water to survive?

Changyoon shook his head, dislodging all his distracting thoughts. He bounced on his toes and shook out his arms at his sides, psyching himself up. He could do this. He could do this.

But Changyoon had never been the ‘cannonball into the deep end’ type of guy, always making his way to the steps so that he could slowly acclimate to the freezing water. But he always made it in.

So he took a cautious step down onto the tiny cement slab that functioned as a porch before pausing, leaving one foot in the house. Somewhere, a cricket chirped in the distance, but other than that, nothing. No sicking crunch of the branches as they twisted and came to life. No movement at all, besides a small shiver of the leaves as a gust of wind blew by. 

So one more step, his body fully exposed now. Another step and he was touching one of the three stepping stones. Then, he heard it. A twisting crack of a branch, but he couldn’t see it. Changyoon’s eyes wildly searched the canopy above him, but still couldn’t pinpoint where it had come from. Panic struck through his chest, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his neck.

Then, quick and precise pain to his leg, a loud _whack_ accompanying it. “Fuck!” hissed Changyoon as his leg buckled from underneath him. It had struck a previous wound and he could already feel the trickle of blood down his leg, raw skin reopening.

More cracks from the canopy around him and Changyoon was panicking. He felt the rush of anxiety, fear, panic scream through his veins. He was vulnerable and he hadn’t actually thought this through. Maybe he had been hoping it all had been some type of fluke, maybe he had been hoping that Hyojin and the others were lying when they said it would happen again, maybe he had hoped it was all just a nightmare.

He urged his body to _move_ , to run, to retreat, to do _anything_ other than stand there like a deer in headlights as more of the trees cracked to life around him.

Then, Changyoon heard a _whack_ from behind, causing him to brace for impact, but nothing came. Instead, his shirt’s neckline pulled taut from behind, startling a gasp from Changyoon as he stumbled backward, trying to keep his shirt from strangling him all while trying to find his balance. One of his heels caught onto the cement lip of the patio, causing him to stumble, and then he tripped a second time over the threshold of the house, leaving him to sprawl out onto his back, right back to where he had been upon his initial entrance to the house.

But instead of five faces peering down at him, it was just one this time. Yuto scowled down at Changyoon, expression devoid of pity or surprise. He had known Changyoon was going to try something.

“You’re an idiot,” scolded the boy, tone flat instead of cutting. It kind of hurt Changyoon’s ego with it being said so matter of factly. 

“You guys really couldn’t have expected me to just take your word on this,” said Changyoon from where he laid.

“I expect you to understand that we haven't lied to you, not once,” said Yuto as he made his way around Changyoon’s prone form on the floor to shut the front door with a small click. “When we say that there’s no way past the trees, we mean it. What would you have done once out there? There’s no past them, even if you had run.”

Changyoon pouted at the reprimands but had nothing to say in rebuttal. Deep down, he knew that Yuto was telling the truth. But he still had to _try_. Instead, he sat up so he could inspect his leg. Luckily, the fabric of the borrowed pajama pants hadn’t ripped open, but his skin sure did. There had been a bandaid over it, but now it just flopped uselessly from his leg, just barely hanging on. Changyoon poked the opened cut and hissed at the pain that followed. 

“Stop that,” said Yuto as he knocked Changyoon’s hand away from his leg. Then, Changyoon watched as Yuto’s shoulders drooped, all the tension melting out of him. “Put your shoes away, I'll go grab a new bandage,” directed Yuto with a sigh.

Changyoon had just barely placed his shoes back where he had found them and made his way over to the couch, the one familiar spot to him in this house when Yuto had returned with a bandage, cotton swab, and disinfectant.

Changyoon reached out for the supplies since he wasn’t on the verge of passing out this time around, but Yuto held them just out of reach.

“I’ll do it,” said Yuto as he sat beside Changyoon on the couch and patted his lap, indicating for Changyoon to put his leg there.

Changyoon pursed his lips but did as told. He found it strange, as he watched Yuto roll the pants’ leg up. Yuto had been the last of the boys here that Changyoon would have thought would go out of his way to help him. Changyoon got the distinct impression that Yuto did _not_ like the fact that Changyoon was here, having been the most suspicious of him throughout the evening.

But here he was, softly blotting at Changyoon’s leg, touch gentle as he cleaned the cut. Changyoon watched on as Yuto opened and placed the bandage before spotting something he hadn’t expected. He hadn’t noticed it right away, since neither of them had bothered to turn on any lights, but right on the back of Yuto’s hand was a deep red welt, angry and fresh. 

“Did you, uh,” a weird swirl of emotion serpented around his stomach and throat at the realization of what had happened. “I’m sorry,” settled Changyoon, unsure of if he should be grateful or remorseful that Yuto had gotten hurt while saving Changyoon’s ass. 

Yuto lifted a questioning eyebrow, so Changyoon motioned to Yuto’s hand.

“Oh,” said Yuto as he inspected the welt himself, as if he had forgotten about it.

“Uh, should I—,” started Changyoon before he cut himself off. What was he even supposed to do? Offer to help Yuto with it? Put his own bandage on it? It wasn’t even bleeding, so there was nothing to clean up. There was nothing Changyoon could do.

“I’ll just have Minkyun help me,” said Yuto as he nudged at Changyoon’s leg, indicating that he was done. Changyoon let it fall off his lap with a thud.

Weirdly, his words stung. It left Changyoon feeling completely helpless. He couldn’t help but compare what had just transpired to everything else that had happened the evening before. 

Changyoon had messed up, crashed into their home, and then left it to the residents of the house to clean him and his mess up. And Changyoon couldn’t help or repay them in any way. A repeat performance, it seemed.

It made him feel horrible, disgust with himself rolling through him. These boys had been nothing but _kind_ and Changyoon repaid them by taking up their space, distrusted their words and outright _feared_ them. They didn’t deserve that.

“Thank you,” whispered Changyoon into the silence of the night. It was the least he could do.

Yuto stood up before turning to look down at Changyoon, who still sat on the couch. Changyoon stared back, unsure of what he found there. Yuto was the hardest out of all of them to read, but Changyoon was sure that neither of them were ignorant of the fact that that was Changyoon’s first time saying thank you.

Instead of words, or even acknowledgment of Changyoon having said anything, Yuto cocked his head to the side, a request to follow.

Wordlessly, Changyoon stood and trailed after Yuto as they made their way farther into the house, back into the hallway. They had arrived at Changyoon’s appointed room first. Changyoon stared into the cold, uninviting black of the room, where he had left the door hanging wide open.

“Good night Changyoon, see you tomorrow,” said Yuto, and then he was gone, turning to return to his own room without so much as a single look back over his shoulder.

But Changyoon hadn't moved yet, frozen in his spot as he watched Yuto open his bedroom door, the one that held all four of the other boys who lived here. Watched as Yuto pushed the door so that it only shut halfway behind him, leaving it to hang ajar. Heard the rustle of sheets and Yuto’s hushed voice, murmuring into the silence of the house. A soft, melodic but tired hum in response. The whisper of more movement, of a soft wet sound. 

Then, finally, quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all honesty, this is my favorite chapter I've written so far. I'm not quite sure why.


	4. Perfume Masking Medicine

Changyoon stared vacantly into his dim eyes, a mere husk of his former self. The mirror and fluorescent lights of the bathroom told no lies and hid nothing from sight, baring the full ugly truth before him. And he looked exactly like how he felt, which was complete and utter shit.

Changyoon sighed as he leaned in to inspect the damage, figuratively and literally. It had been a long and grueling process of pulling off all the bandages, but a few were already peeling at the edges and Changyoon knew giving them a some air would probably be for the better. Didn’t make ripping out the hair along his arms and legs any more bearable.

First on his checklist was the large bruise that had bloomed across his right cheek which encircled raised skin, red and tender where the branch had struck him. Changyoon just knew that it was going to scab something ugly across his face, along with all the other wounds his body had sustained. It was going to be a long, grueling healing process.

He then rotated his face, taking note of a few spots of acne that had popped up, no doubt from all the stress of yesterday. Changyoon pulled back and rubbed at his eyes before reaching up to scratch through his hair. 

He desperately needed a shower. Luckily, there had been a towel hanging over his room’s doorknob when he had exited that morning, indicating that it was his to use without someone having to come and tell him. He had initially peeked his head out into the hallway, checking for signs of life before fully exiting, but it seemed that the residents of the house were already back to business and doing their usual morning routines or were purposefully giving Changyoon space.

When Changyoon had made it to the bathroom, he had been greeted by a brand new toothbrush sitting on the bathroom counter, a sticky note stuck to it. When he pulled the sticky note off, the only thing written on it was a large smiley face that took up the majority of the paper. Changyoon couldn’t help but smile back at it.

Changyoon was able to manage a lukewarm shower, anything hotter just hissed along his wounds, making it unbearable.

When he had finished, Changyoon was torn. He had forgotten to ask about, well, anything really, at least in way of logistics of him living here long term. He eyed last night's clothes, debating if he hated the idea of putting back on used underwear more than the idea of walking out in a towel and just desperately hope that he would run into someone who would overlook his nakedness to graciously bestow upon him fresh underwear without any uncomfortable remarks.

Changyoon bit his lip and decided on a compromise. It wasn’t like anyone would _know_ he was going commando. And it wasn’t like he was _leaving_ the house any time soon. So, he slipped back on the clothes from the night before and quickly snuck back into his assigned room to shamefully bury his dirty boxers under his ripped up jeans.

Then, he was back out, whistling a bouncy tune as he made his way down the hallway. When he entered the living room, he spied movement from the kitchen opening. As he walked closer, he took note of a pungent smell in the air. It wasn’t anything _bad_ per se, but it was a bit sour and didn’t seem to want to mix, like medicine covered in perfume. 

“Good~ morning~!” singsonged Seungjoon as he waved a large wooden spoon in greeting when he noticed Changyoon enter. Changyoon watched as a few drops of whatever he was cooking were sent flying in random directions around the kitchen.

“How did you sleep?” asked Seungjoon, tone kind and bright as he turned away from the pot he was tending to on the stovetop. Changyoon’s shoulders stiffened up when Seungjoon's eyes zeroed into the bruise that was blossoming across Changyoon's cheek. Seungjoon's cheerful demeanor fell off him and Changyoon just wanted to curl up and hide. He knew that it looked bad and didn't want anyone to make a scene about it. He already did enough of that yesterday.

Unexpectedly, Seungjoon didn't say anything right away. Instead, he motioned for Changyoon to come closer. Changyoon stiltedly stepped forward, both curious and cautious of the request. Seungjoon reached out, gently capturing Changyoon's chin in his grip so he could inspect his cheek.

“I slept fine, perfectly fine,” grumbled Changyoon, finally replying to Seungjoon's earlier question, feeling the tips of his ears heat up as Seungjoon leaned in, his gaze intense and close. He tried to look anywhere that wasn't Seungjoon’s face without making it too obvious he was avoiding eye contact. 

“Too bad our magic doesn’t work on you,” tutted Seungjoon as he leaned Changyoon’s face this way and that, inspecting the damage. “A pity for such a handsome face. Might just scar too.”

“Oh thanks,” replied Changyoon wryly when he was freed from Seungjoon’s grasp. He wasn’t quite sure how he should interpret Seungjoon’s words. They seemed sincere enough, but Changyoon didn’t know these guys well and his words seemed too close to the spectrum of being sarcastic for Changyoon’s sleep addled brain. Plus, he knew he looked like shit, so he wasn’t feeling very receptive to such comments.

As Changyoon walked further in, he took note that the kitchen gave off the same vibes as the living room had. Where, upon first look, it was what was expected out of a house shared by five guys. The countertops were a bit of a mess, full of small appliances, the odd cooking utensil, and a single loaf of bread sitting a bit dejectedly off to the side of it all. But even here, there were plants everywhere, but mainly just the ones that hung from various places around the ceiling. Seungjoon had the small window that sat above the sink open, letting in a cool morning breeze. It was all very cottagecore meets dejected college dropout aesthetic. 

“So, whatcha making?” asked Changyoon as he gingerly sat down into one of the three dining chairs that surrounded a small square table, which was shoved up against a wall, so it was mostly out of the way. Thankfully, his ass had been mostly spared during the attack, but he had to sit closer to the edge of the seat than he would have liked to avoid the ones that started on his upper legs. 

Even though Changyoon would probably eat just about anything put in front of him at this point, stomach practically roaring the second he had gotten up, he _really _hoped it wasn't breakfast. The smell of whatever it was didn't even resemble something edible__

____

____

“Oh, I’m just starting on today’s batch for the orders we got in over the weekend,” explained Seungjoon as he returned to the giant pot that was simmering lightly on the stove. Changyoon couldn't help but squint as he tried to process the scene before him. It wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he thought 'Modern Witches', but Changyoon wasn't about to beat himself up over it. What he found in front of him was still quite a compelling image, one made up of a beautiful white haired boy wearing baggy street clothes, mixing a huge stew pot with a wooden spoon as he lightly swayed to a tune he hummed under his breath. Much more of that cottagecore/college dropout hybrid over the classic gothic imagery Changyoon’s mind had initially provided him, but still, not bad.

“For the business?” asked Changyoon, curiosity piqued. He remembered it being mentioned briefly yesterday, but his mind had been elsewhere.

“Yep!” said Seungjoon cheerfully, “It should be ready for Minkyun whenever he gets out of bed.” 

Changyoon made a face. He really _did not_ wanna know what role Minkyun was going to play in getting whatever was in the pot finished, but he knew he feared the answer.

“Ah…,” said Changyoon after a few beats of silence, not sure how to broach the subject of food. He already felt like he was taking a lot from the household, who provided a bed and a clean towel and a new toothbrush without so much as a request from him. It was nice, getting pampered in such a way without so much as asking or really deserving it, but it was spoiling him. Now he had no idea how to even broach the idea of asking for _anything_.

“Do— Uh, is there… food?” asked Changyoon awkwardly, feeling small in his seat. 

“Oh yes! Sorry that we didn’t prepare anything. We all kind of just fend for ourselves until dinner rolls around,” explained Seungjoon sheepishly, “I don’t think there’s too much left in the fridge, but I’m pretty sure there's some leftovers from yesterday you can just heat up. But if there’s anything else you see, you can help yourself.”

Changyoon nodded an affirmative before trudging over to the fridge. At first, after he had pulled open the door, he had no idea what he was even looking at. Because, it was full, but most of it didn’t look to be on the ‘food’ side of the spectrum. Instead, it was just filled to the brim with a bunch of clear single serve pouches, shaped exactly like capri suns.

“Wha—?” started Changyoon as he pulled one out, filled with a dark green liquid. There were no labels on any of them and Changyoon made a face as he rotated the pouch in his hand, causing the liquid to slosh around. 

“It’s our product!” announced Seungjoon proudly from where he stirred his giant pot.

“I know you said there wasn’t much to eat, but are you sure there’s _any_ food in here?” asked Changyoon incredulously, tossing the pouch back and forth between his hands as he scanned the fridge, looking between and behind the stacks on stacks of pouches.

“I’m sure the takeout boxes are in there, you might have to move some things around,” reassured Seungjoon.

And after a few rearranged towers, Changyoon finally found it, hiding in the way back. He suspiciously eyed the boxes as he pulled them out. They looked awfully familiar…

“Is this the food I delivered last night?” asked Changyoon incredulously, turning to shove one of the boxes in Seungjoon’s direction so that there were no misunderstandings on what he was talking about. Because last Changyoon remembered, that food was dropped, ruined, and probably even stomped into the dirt during the fray. “There’s no way it was still edible.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” laughed Seungjoon as he pushed the food back towards Changyoon, “There was only, like, two boxes that got knocked open. Plus, Jaeyoung had picked them up, making sure to only grab the food, so no dirt. He’s very skilled with his magic. And it would have been a waste of a perfectly good dinner to not eat it,” explained Seungjoon as he waved Changyoon off, pointing to where he could find plates and the microwave.

Changyoon eyed the food skeptically, still not quite buying it. But Seungjoon was right on his last point and he couldn’t argue with him on magic logistics since, on magic logistics, he knew none. So Changyoon just grumbled something along the lines of weird magic and eating dirt and the like as he watched the food spin around in the microwave. Seungjoon snickered at him, seemingly amused at Changyoon’s theatrics. 

When the microwave beeped, Changyoon grabbed the food and a cup of water before hurrying back to his seat. He could feel his mouth start to water with the promise of food right in front of him. It must have been at least twenty hours since he last ate. 

“So, how does making potions even work?” asked Changyoon as he shoved big mouthfuls of food in his mouth. It hurt to open his jaw wide, but that was only a mild inconvenience with how starving he was.

“Elixirs,” corrected Seungjoon, “Pfft, _potions_ ,” mocked Seungjoon humorously, like it was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. “And Hyojin and I are the ones who make them.”

“Just you two?” asked Changyoon, pointedly ignoring Seungjoon’s jab at his lack of knowledge on witch terminology, as if he hadn’t just learned that magic existed _yesterday_.

“Yeah, it was our idea to do elixir mixing as our coven business. We actually grew up together,” started Seungjoon with a twinkle in his eye, “When we were young, we already decided that we were going to have a coven of our own. But, unfortunately, our specializations don’t mix well, at least not in any way that we could make a business out of. So, we settled on elixir mixing, something that even we could pull off with enough practice. Luckily, it worked out and we were able to learn enough to start selling. It seems so strange to think about now, but we didn’t even know if we’d find anyone else who would want to join our coven. You probably don’t realize, but it's a bit unorthodox for covens to have two leaders,” said Seungjoon with a cheeky smile.

“But anyway,” continued Seungjoon, “Since we'd thought it might just be us, we made sure we’d be able to sustain a coven business even with just us two. We put so much work into learning how to run this business with our ill suited specializations, it just seems right for us to do it,” finished Seungjoon with a flourish of his wooden spoon before turning to turn up the stove’s flame.

“Not that the others hadn’t tried to lend a hand!” hastily continued Seungjoon, probably realizing that his last statement could paint his other covenmates in a bad light. “Like, poor Minkyun was devastated when he found out he couldn’t mix, as if he isn’t already a huge help,” said Seungjoon with a deep sigh.

Changyoon tilted his head and scrunched his eyebrows, curious. “But why can’t he?”

“Because he only has interior magic,” said Seungjoon simply, like that explained it all.

Which, it most definitely didn’t. “What’s interior magic?”

“Did we not explain it last night?” asked Seungjoon, eyes to the ceiling as he recalled the evening prior before humming a flat note. “No, I guess we didn’t.” Seungjoon shifted so he could lean his weight against the countertop, settling in. “So, us Magicians are born with our magic, but it’s not a ‘one size fits all’ sort of deal. We are born with a specialization, along with either what we call interior or exterior magic.

“An easy way to think of it is interior magic affects yourself and other people, while exterior magic affects the world around us. So, when you put your specialization together with whether you have interior or exterior magic, that’s what really dictates what your magic will be able to do. Like, for example, my specialization is elemental control, but I have exterior magic. So put those together, and you get my Elemental Manipulation.

“But elemental specializers are usually exterior users, so I’m a pretty typical case. But like, let’s take Minkyun for example. His case is considered atypical. So firstly, he has a healing specialization, which is already rare. But it doesn’t stop there. Healing specializations are usually interior magic, which Minkyun has, but his is exceedingly interior, to the point that he can’t emit his magic, which is how most interior healers' magic manifests. His magic is locked up so tightly in his body that he himself became the healing aspect of his specialization.

“But, really, even though Minkyun’s magic could be initially viewed as an unfortunate case by other Magicians, it’s what allows us to make our business be what it is today. We wouldn’t be nearly as successful without him. So, you could say that Minkyun’s specialization is what revolutionized our business,” finished Seungjoon with a fond smile and a flourish of his spoon.

And really, that was a lot to take in. All Changyoon could do was chew his food as he watched Seungjoon practically radiate with the love that had warmed his words. 

“But anyway, I got a bit off track again,” started back up Seungjoon, “So, when we were younger, Hyojin and I devised a way to get our magic to work together well enough to mix elixirs. Since I have exterior magic, I was able to teach myself to mix while Hyojin taught his interior magic to work on plants, which is an amazing feat. If you knew more about magic, you’d understand how hard that really is,” said Seungjoon, his eyes twinkling with unabashed pride, “With it, he encourages their growth and infuses them with his magic, making the ingredients more accepting of my subpar mixing ability. And with Minkyun’s added Healing Body, we’re able to run a very successful elixir business,” finished Seungjoon, practically bursting at the seams with pride. 

“And that’s the family business,” concluded Changyoon a bit lamely.

“More like the coven’s business,” corrected Seungjoon, not unkindly.

Changyoon raised an incredulous eyebrow at that. “There’s a difference?”

“Well,” started Seungjoon as he leaned down to fiddle with the knobs on the stove, turning the heat down to low, “None of us are actually family. Covens don’t have family members, unless they're the coven's kids who have yet to grow up and find their own.”

Changyoon nodded to that, having already suspected that none of them were related. The whole household better suited the label of a ‘lovers nest’ over, say, a family household or an actual bachelor pad. Changyoon might have mistaken them all as really close friends if not for a charge of electric energy that hung in the air when they were together, one that suggested a closer connection. That, and the fact that he had a front row seat to two of them full on making out while the rest of them cheered them on. Call Changyoon a master detective, but there was no mistaking them all as ‘just bros’ after something like that.

“And traditionally, covens start a business together. We create a coven so we can have the business. But in turn, we have the business to support our coven. It’s a give and take cycle that Magicians have been doing for a long time. Our lifestyle is quite ordinary for the average Magician." Seungjoon lifted his hand up to his chin thoughtfully, “Well, ironically, I guess we’re a bit on the larger side. Hyojin and I never could have predicted that,” said Seungjoon with a kindhearted snicker, as if he was laughing at an inside joke.

Changyoon felt a bit lost, the info dump quite a bit to take in so early in the morning, but that was okay. He figured he’d work out all these weird magic logistics as they came. Presently, there was something he was a bit more curious about.

“So, all covens are poly?” asked Changyoon, taking care to keep his tone light and carefree. He wanted to bring it up without making it too obvious that he was very much steering the conversation in a new direction. Like, he was already confident that he was right, but he wanted to be _sure_.

“Poly?” asked Seungjoon as he washed off his hands before walking over to join Changyoon at the table, sitting opposite of him.

“You know? Romantically involved? With each other?” asked Changyoon as he motioned his hands in a vaguely mixed up gesture. 

“Romantically involved? I guess we all do love each other,” said Seungjoon with his hand on his chin as he thought about it. Changyoon couldn’t help but squint suspiciously at that. Was witch life really so different that this was something that got lost in translation? Like, Changyoon could understand not meeting eye to eye on certain vernacular, but with this? 

“Yeah, but like—” Changyoon choked a bit on his words. Was he overstepping by pressing? “Do you _love_ each other?”

“Yes, very much so. I don’t think you can have a coven that you didn’t love. It wouldn’t be a coven then,” explained Seungjoon easily, like he wasn’t seeing where Changyoon’s confusion came from.

Changyoon sighed but dropped it. He was sure he already knew that they were all involved, at least in the way he defined the word. He didn’t want to brag, but he would consider himself reasonably perceptive on that sort of thing.

Figuring that he wasn’t going to get much more on the subject from Seungjoon, Changyoon finished off his plate of food and chugged the rest of his water before getting up to clean up his stuff. When he stepped up to the sink, it was already half full of used spoons, a dirty mortar and pestle, and a few pot lids. Changyoon rolled up the short sleeves of his borrowed t-shirt a bit theatrically and located the sponge and soap so he could clean up everything in the sink. It was the least he could do to start pulling his weight around here, especially since he had a feeling his debt to this household was only going to exponentially grow the longer he stayed.

Behind him, he could hear a pair of feet shuffling along the living room carpet right before a, “Good morning,” call. Changyoon looked over his shoulder and spotted Minkyun’s squinted eyes, still heavy from sleep along with a spectacular case of bedhead.

Seungjoon hopped up from his seat when he noticed Minkyun entering. “Oh, not too late today,” teased Seungjoon, pulling at Minkyun’s earlobe as he walked by. Minkyun gave a halfhearted attempt at swatting his hand away, but Seungjoon was already turning away to turn the heat back up on the burner, brandishing his wooden spoon.

Equal parts curious and cautious, Changyoon watched as Minkyun shuffled his way to Seungjoon’s side, barely lifting his feet as he went. Without any sort of fanfare, Minkyun leaned over the pot and proceeded to spit directly into the mixture. Changyoon cringed violently, nearly flinging the sponge from his grasp. Another cringe when he watched Seungjoon stir it in, a concentrated look on his face. 

“Okay, now. That’s gross. On so many levels,” said Changyoon, still getting residual squeamish twitches as he tried to forget what he just witnessed.

“What, you’d prefer I pee in it?” parried Minkyun, eyebrow raised, “Because that’d be just as effective.”

Changyoon squeezed his eyes closed, trying hard not to think about _that_. The spit was already bad enough. “No, no okay whatever, not my culture. Not my beverage. Never _ever_ gonna drink that stuff anyway,” said Changyoon, mainly to himself, trying to come to terms with what a 'revolutionized elixir business’ actually meant. 

While Changyoon was busy physically trying to expunge the memory of what he had just seen, he almost missed the soft “Hey,” from Seungjoon, catching Minkyun with a small touch to his arm, making him pause his trek back to the depths of the house he had originated from.

Minkyun turned a curious gaze to Seungjoon, the drowsy weight to them instantly chased away. They shared a quiet look, one that communicated so much more than an outsider like Changyoon could ever hope to decipher. Then, Minkyun smiled and leaned down, kissing Seungjoon softly. It was brief and almost passed as sweet, if not for the fact that Minkyun licked deeply into Seungjoon’s mouth just before he pulled away. 

A smile and a “Thanks,” from Seungjoon and Minkyun vacated the kitchen, a soft smile adorning his lips.

Changyoon sent Seungjoon an disbelieving look with an accusatory gesture, one that perfectly pantomimed _See?! That’s what I meant!_. Seungjoon just sent him a confused but kind smile. Changyoon narrowed his eyes and childishly threw down the sponge before vigorously washing off his hands. There was no way that Seungjoon _didn’t_ know what he was talking about, right? Was he just fucking with him?

“What? I had a bit of a headache,” explained Seungjoon with a cheeky smile, his tone just a bit too innocent in Changyoon’s book.

Right when Changyoon turned, ready to give the interrogation of his life, the pair heard the front door open and close. Then, “Seungjoon? Is Changyoon awake?” called a voice that Changyoon already recognized as Hyojin’s.

Changyoon grumbled the whole way into the living room, something about poly witches not having any sort of discretion, who thought they were cute by playing dumb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Just as a heads up, I started school a few weeks ago, which means less time for writing fanfics TT^TT I'll try my best with keeping updates not too far apart but I don't want to burn myself out or something similar! Thank you for understanding and thank you for reading! <3


	5. A Crack On Your Face

“Did you sleep well?” asked Hyojin as he settled into the loveseat, leaving the couch obviously unoccupied for Changyoon, who supposed that it had unofficially become his assigned seat. Which wasn’t something he was going to start complaining about any time soon as he settled in.

When Changyoon felt the right side of the couch sink down next to him, he couldn't help but jump in surprise, caught completely off guard. The idea that someone would come and join him on the couch hadn’t even crossed his mind. He turned to see Seungjoon settling in, sitting much closer than Changyoon thought necessary, their arms nearly touching.

Seungjoon smiled when he caught Changyoon's eye, who returned it with a wry smile of his own before scooching a bit to the left, to give both of them a little more room. It wasn’t that he _minded_ that someone was sitting on the couch with him, and it made sense that someone would since it was _their_ couch, Changyoon just couldn’t help but feel a bit out of his depth with everyone being so tactile.

He had already made up his mind to not fear his hosts, at least not until they gave him a solid reason to, since they deserved at the very least that courtesy, but he was still just getting used to them as people. So Changyoon couldn't return the sentiment, at least not yet, since he was positive that he needed at least more than just one day to feel comfortable enough around them to initiate such gestures. Changyoon tried not to think too hard on it and just chalked it up to it maybe being a witch thing as he turned his attention back to Hyojin.

“Fine, I slept fine,” answered Changyoon dismissively, waving a hand around flippantly. Hyojin sent Changyoon a dissatisfied, maybe even a bit concerned look that prompted him to ramble on a bit more, “The bed was fine. Big.”

Hyojin nodded once, a quick and straightforward one, apparently accepting that as enough.

“Well, I just wanted to talk about getting you settled in here,” began Hyojin, “I’m sure you’ll want some of your own stuff. We’ll send over Jaeyoung to your place to collect some of your things.”

Changyoon opened his mouth to refute but was interrupted by Yuto practically materializing out of thin air at the hallway’s entrance.

“I’ll go too,” butted in Yuto, voice hard, leaving no room for argument. Changyoon just about jumped out of his skin at his sudden appearance, not having heard him approaching. He gripped his chest, willing his heart to calm down. If Changyoon didn't know better, he would have thought Yuto had been lurking, just waiting for the opportune moment to come out and give him the perfect heart attack. Changyoon felt Seungjoon pat his shoulder sympathetically. 

“Not alone,” rebutted Hyojin a bit curtly, completely unfazed by Yuto's appearance or demand.

“Jaeyoung will be with me,” said Yuto, quick with his reply.

“Not without me or Seungjoon,” amended Hyojin tersely. Something in everyone's quick words clued Changyoon into the fact that this wasn’t the first time they had this type of discussion.

Yuto scowled at that, eyes hard, but Changyoon couldn’t help but think of a child throwing a tantrum over being denied a toy. Something that looked harmless but if left unchecked, could erupt into something with much more dire consequences. 

A few beats of tense silence passed and Changyoon could practically feel the electricity passing between the two before Yuto relented first. “Fine. Seungjoon?”

“Yeah, sounds good! I’m curious to see our Changyoon’s place, too,” said Seungjoon as he jumped up from his seat to lean over and pinch Changyoon’s cheek. Changyoon sat there shell shocked at the sudden turn of events, but then realized he could finally voice his grievances. 

“Wait wait wait, you guys are _not_ going to go and poke through all my stuff!” said Changyoon defiantly, “And what do you mean ‘our’?” accused Changyoon as he turned pointedly to Seungjoon, who just reached out and managed one more cheek pinch before jumping out of the way of Changyoon’s swipe at him, laughing as he bounced off to link his arm with Yuto’s.

“Is Jaeyoung up?” asked Hyojin. Yuto shook his head before turning to make his way back down the hallway, interpreting the question as the suggestion it really was, Seungjoon in tow.

“Is the bike in front yours?” asked Hyojin as he turned his attention back to Changyoon, always able to get back on track.

“No, it’s my work’s..,” said Changyoon, tone trailing off because, _fuck_. Changyoon groaned as he lifted his hands to his forehead, already anticipating the stress headache. "Ugh, _work_."

Dealing with work was a whole different can of worms he wasn’t sure he was ready to tackle. He already had so many other things going on right now and work was honest to god the _last_ thing he wanted to deal with right now. 

It’s not like he could even try and plead his case for keeping his job, the whole not being able to leave the house thing wasn’t exactly negotiable. Changyoon mourned the loss of his job, but at least he had direct deposit, so he wouldn't have to mourn the loss of his last paycheck.

“Don't worry, we'll just have them return it while they’re out,” said Hyojin with a small nod. "And maybe you can just send your work a text, apologizing for the late return. Explain that something came up and you won't be able to return to work."

Changyoon couldn’t help but blink at Hyojin in disbelief. Could he really just send them a text and be done with it? The way Hyojin worded it made it seem like it was all so easy. Was it really that simple? 

But the steady way Hyojin had said it, the way that he seemed to have complete control of the situation, figuring out and taking care of all of Changyoon’s problems and worries with definitive words and poise… It made Changyoon hopeful and believe that it really could be that simple.

And at that moment, Changyoon couldn’t help but admire Hyojin, who seemed to have everything figured out and put together even before Changyoon mentally acknowledged there was a problem to be fixed. His words held an authority to them that left no room for doubt. While Changyoon couldn’t even bring himself to think about how he was going to solve the problem with the bike, with work, with having none of his stuff, Hyojin already had an answer _and_ made it look so effortless and simple while executing them. Maybe it all was, for witches like them.

While Changyoon was still sitting there, a bit stunned at how all this was falling into place so easily, Hyojin caught his attention again.

“Why don’t you make a list of essentials and send it over to Seungjoon? That way we can exchange phone numbers too.”

Changyoon nodded as he pulled out his phone to type out a list of everything he could think of. Changyoon stuck his tongue out to the side as he mentally plotted out his apartment, still roughly packed into boxes, trying to remember all the important things to him. He was around halfway done with making his list when he realized that he hadn’t actually initially agreed to let the witches go and rifle through his things. 

Changyoon looked up to eye Hyojin suspiciously. Even though all Hyojin was doing was staring down at his own phone, thumb flicking every now and then to scroll down it, Changyoon noticed a small smile, one that looked a _tad_ too pleased. 

Changyoon couldn't help but wonder if Hyojin had used some sort of magic on him. Without even realizing it, Changyoon had gotten swept up in Hyojin’s authority and even mentally praised him for it and all the while, he was being played right into Hyojin’s hands. Never before had Changyoon been manipulated so thoroughly, so easily and he couldn’t help but feel like there must have been other forces at play.

But no, it couldn’t have been magic, if their words from last night were to be taken as truth. Hyojin had even specifically mentioned that his magic didn’t work on Changyoon and he really didn’t think the household would lie about that. Why would they? 

They had nothing to gain from giving Changyoon some sort of false sense of security, giving him hope that he had some sort of ‘upper hand’ against their magic. The more Changyoon stared, the more he was convinced that Hyojin was just able to _do_ that. A born leader, able to turn the tables in any way that he so pleased. 

And, while being manipulated so easily hurt Changyoon’s ego just a teeny tiny bit, it wasn't like Changyoon could live off the household's leftovers forever. So Changyoon grumbled in resignation as he shifted in his seat. The fresh breeze in places he wasn’t quite used to one being was a stark reminder that his commando situation was very much a thing that was happening and wasn’t going to change any time soon if he didn’t agree to this. At least, afterward, he wouldn't have to mooch off them for clothes.

And even Changyoon could begrudgingly admit that it was a nice gesture on their part to offer so willingly to go do this for him. Even if Changyoon still felt a bit miffed at getting played so easily into allowing them a free pass to snooping around his place, he could at least acknowledge that.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” spoke up Hyojin, probably noticing that Changyoon had paused in his list making. “I’m sure they’ll grab some extra things that they see fit to while they’re there.”

Changyoon could tell that Hyojin was trying to reassure him, but he just chewed at his cheek at that. It wasn’t like he had a whole lot of things to start with since he had only just moved here, but he still felt a small part of him that was reluctant to give the others free range to his place.

Luckily, the majority of the household didn’t seem too suspicious of him, but Changyoon wasn’t an idiot. He knew that Yuto probably only wanted to go to poke around in his shit, to figure out if Changyoon was actually telling them the truth about who he was. And it wasn’t like he could stop him, or insist that Yuto didn’t go. If it wasn’t Yuto, it would just be someone else sticking their nose where they felt they needed to.

So, even though he knew that someone poking around his crap was something he couldn't avoid, that didn't mean he had to like it.

Changyoon grumbled one last time just because he could and it made him feel a little better, before finishing off his list. It wasn’t a fully comprehensive one, just small ticks in the boxes of things he’ll need. Shirts, pants, pajamas, underwear, some of his bathroom stuff, his Switch. He hesitated on putting down socks and shoes but did so in the end. Call him optimistic, but Changyoon was _really_ hoping his impromptu extended sleepover wasn’t going to last too long. At the least second, he quickly typed down the address for his apartment.

As Changyoon handed over his phone to let Hyojin input Seungjoon's phone number, Changyoon's mind fizzled out into static when he realized a huge problem.

What was he going to do about _rent?_ He didn't have a job anymore, but luckily, he had saved up a decent amount even before moving out here, so he was probably okay for a few months if it led to that. But, damn, he _really_ didn’t want to go and waste it all on keeping his apartment under his name while he wasn’t even living there. But what other choice did he have? He couldn’t just let it go. Practically everything he owned was there and he couldn’t just ask his new housemates to move _all_ of his things over here.

Changyoon sucked in his bottom lip and chewed on it. He could feel himself spiraling, his mind circling around and around and around, because _what was he going to do?_

When Hyojin reached out to pass back Changyoon's phone, he looked at Changyoon with a concerned gleam in his eye, eyebrows slightly scrunched together. He probably took notice of Changyoon's anxious body language. With that thought, he let up on his lip, which felt sore after he let it go. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, Changyoon’s mind provided him a thought. 

_Why not just ask Hyojin?_

On a whim, Changyoon acted on it.

“What am I going to do about rent? About my place?” asked Changyoon, feeling a seed of panic take root in his chest, which must have bled into his voice, because Hyojin reached forward and placed his hand onto Changyoon’s knee, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. 

“When is your rent due?” asked Hyojin, his voice kind and soothing.

Changyoon took a second to mentally calculate. “In about two weeks.”

“How about we readdress that in a week then? Hopefully, we’ll be closer to a solution then.”

And, even though it wasn’t solved, even though there wasn’t a concrete solution, Changyoon could feel that seed of worry shrivel up. Not quite gone, but there was no immediate danger of it taking root. Hyojin said it so easily, so kindly, so matter of factly that Changyoon couldn’t help but latch on to that and hold on tight. If Hyojin didn’t feel the need to worry about it now, then why should Changyoon? With a small nod and an even smaller smile, Changyoon acknowledged Hyojin’s words.

It was then that Jaeyoung came floating through the living room, looking fresh from a shower, hair still damp and unstyled. Yuto trailed in after, his arm outstretched and holding onto Jaeyoung’s pant leg while Seungjoon still had his arm linked with Yuto’s, making the lot of them an odd sight, a haphazard chain of people, as they made their way towards the front door.

“Morning Changyoon, good to see you,” greeted Jaeyoung with a small wave and a kind smile on his face, like he actually was happy to see that Changyoon was still with them.

“Would you mind dropping off Changyoon’s bike back at his work too?” called Hyojin as he pulled his hand back from Changyoon’s knee, tipping Changyoon off to the fact that they had discussed sending Jaeyoung to ransack his place even before the idea had been cleared through him.

“Yeah, of course,” confirmed Jaeyoung, who was now slowly floating down until he was back to standing upright like a typical person who was actually affected by gravity.

“Do you have your house keys on you?” asked Hyojin when he turned back to look at Changyoon.

“Uh,” Changyoon patted at his pajama pockets on instinct, even though he knew they weren’t actually going to be there. “Let me go get them.”

Changyoon stood so he could hurry to the hallway, acutely aware that he was being watched by four sets of eyes as he made his way to his assigned room.

When Changyoon returned, he paused just before the mouth of the hallway, feeling compelled to stop and observe as the boys prepared to leave, busy slipping on shoes and checking for phones. Hyojin had stood up since Changyoon had left, taking time to check over the boys, doting on them where he could. When they looked nearly ready, now just waiting on Changyoon to return, Hyojin reached down and caught Yuto’s hand in his own to fidget a bit at the ring on Yuto’s middle finger.

“Stay safe,” said Hyojin as he gave Yuto’s hand a small squeeze.

Changyoon thought the moment was sweet, a cute gesture that he could start to see might be a habit of Hyojin’s, the phantom touch of that same hand reaching out to his last night still lingering on his skin. When Changyoon looked up from their connected hands, he found something... odd.

There, Changyoon watched as Yuto’s eyes became vacant, dull and unseeing, even though he was staring straight at Hyojin. Changyoon stepped forward from his hiding spot on instinct, to do… what? To help? To go check up on him? Changyoon didn’t know. All he knew was that the look hit a spot in him that he didn’t even know existed, freaking him out more and more the longer he took in Yuto’s gone eyes. 

Seungjoon noticed Changyoon from where he had stepped out and smiled over to him. Changyoon was about to say _something_ , but he wasn’t sure what. Yuto just looked… not there and someone should definitely be doing something about it.

But then, just as quickly as it started, Yuto’s eyes came back to life and he squeezed Hyojin’s hand back. “No need to worry.”

Changyoon nearly tripped over his steps, left to mentally kick himself. What just happened and why did he freak out so much over it? Especially since no one else had been?

He had no solid answer, so instead of dwelling on it, Changyoon tossed his keys over to the group as he made his way back towards the couch. While midair, the keys disappeared, only to reappear in Jaeyoung’s hand. Changyoon really wasn’t going to get used to that anytime soon.

“We won’t be long,” reassured Jaeyoung in farewell. As the three of them turned to leave, Changyoon felt a longing in him, for how his life used to be. Was it really just yesterday that he had been going about his daily life like usual?

He _really_ wished he could follow them out.

Changyoon watched Hyojin watch the three of them go, a fond smile set on his lips before he made his way back to his own seat.

“Now that that’s settled,” started Hyojin, back straight and voice neutral, his ever present smile now something a bit more plastered on.

“You’re all business, aren’t you?” cut in Changyoon with a raised eyebrow as he also returned to his seat. Seeing Hyojin flip flop from the warmth he showed his coven members to the polite but distant kindness he showed Changyoon left a weird taste in the back of his throat. His actions towards him didn’t seem insincere or a front. Just… off putting. Changyoon couldn’t quite put his finger on just why that was.

Hyojin smiled at that. “Only when I need to be. A coven doesn’t run itself, and Seungjoon certainly isn’t doing it,” said Hyojin a bit ruefully, but there was a teasing tone to it. “But while we’re on the topic of business, there are a few things I do need to say to you.”

At that, the carefree, if a bit stiff atmosphere around them completely dropped away, leaving stones to plop down and settle into Changyoon’s stomach. He wasn’t sure he was going to like where this was going.

“We don’t know or understand how you made it past the barrier,” began Hyojin, his tone clipped and to the point.

“I don’t—,” floundered Changyoon as he scooted forward towards Hyojin, quick to defend himself. The shift in the atmosphere was jarring and Changyoon found himself desperate to grasp the fleeting emanation of polite kindness that Hyojin had towards him only just a few moments ago. He was stopped short by Hyojin lifting a hand.

“But I can clearly see that you’re just as lost as the rest of us on the how. I’m convinced that you didn’t know you had magic, but you need to understand that having magic in you is the reason why you’re stuck here. It doesn't matter whether you _knew_ or not.” Hyojin leaned forward to place his elbows onto his knees. Changyoon became blatantly aware of just how close he had gotten to Hyojin and his mind now practically screamed at him to back away.

From what little time Changyoon had been with them, he could already tell that Hyojin was one of the more closed off members of this coven, and being alone with the mysterious boy made Changyoon hyper aware of just how little he knew about him, about any of them.

And even though Changyoon had no idea what Hyojin was insinuating and couldn't even begin to try and figure it out, he just knew that he didn't ever want to get on Hyojin's bad side, and not only because of the magic thing.

It was there that Changyoon knew why he saw Hyojin as such a competent leader.

Not only did Hyojin have the natural poise of a leader, he exuded a near cocky confidence in every action, every movement and gesture calculated with care. He had the type of self assuredness to him that couldn't be faked or bluffed. Changyoon only knew Hyojin for less than a day but he could already tell that he was the type of guy who was used to being in control, no matter the situation.

Hyojin’s natural intimidation, whether he had meant to or not, made Changyoon a little hot under the collar. Belatedly, Changyoon realized he never did find out what exactly Hyojin’s specialization was and suddenly felt like he should know what he was up against here. But, call him perceptive, but asking him about it now didn’t seem like the appropriate time.

“...I don’t know what to tell you,” said Changyoon hesitantly, unsure of what Hyojin wanted from him. “The closest thing I’ve done to being magical was finding a fifty dollar bill on the ground.”

Hyojin's eyes seemed to bore into Changyoon’s own, searching for even a minuscule hint of _something_. Whether it be a hint that Changyoon was lying or something else entirely, he would never know.

Hyojin's aura was intense and made him seem so much larger than he was, making Changyoon feel small in turn. But he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. There was something there in Hyojin’s eyes that entranced Changyoon, a black hole with a strong gravitational pull, equally as deadly as it was mesmerizing.

“...Okay,” finally said Hyojin, and just like that, the tension in the room seemed to sap away, leaving Changyoon’s stiff shoulders to sag down in relief. “We’ll talk a bit more on your magic at a later date."

And with that, Changyoon felt properly dismissed as Hyojin raised to his feet. He glanced down to Changyoon, a kind smile lighting up his features. Changyoon felt like he was going to get whiplash.

As Hyojin walked away, Changyoon just sat there, lost in what being ‘dismissed’ really meant. It would be his first time since this whole situation started that he finally got some time that he didn’t quite know what to do with. Unsure of what he could even do with himself in an unknown household he now found himself living in, Changyoon just uncomfortably sat there as Hyojin walked into the kitchen. 

A few minutes later, Hyojin returned holding a watering can, the surprise from seeing Changyoon still sitting there plain as day on his face. Then, he settled into one of his kind smiles, one of the ones that he only ever gave Changyoon.

“Would you like to help me with watering the plants?” asked Hyojin as he lifted his watering can up.

Changyoon meekly shuffled over, happy to be given something to do to at least help out a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm not dead :^) Sorry that this took longer than usual to get out. While I complained about school last chapter, I had also gotten a new job in that time, so lots of things going on on my end. I'm hoping to try and get back into the swing of things! Thank you for reading and thank you for your patience!


	6. Vivid Sunset

The setting sun painted long rays of sunlight along the floor of Changyoon’s appointed room as they streamed through the window’s partially open curtains. Changyoon looked down to it, fixated on the way the sunlight reached all the way across the room uninterrupted. Earlier in the day, Jaeyoung had come and taken a few more things from the room, like one of the dressers and a storage trunk, leaving the room feeling eerily bare. Too large in a house Changyoon knew to be too small.

Changyoon reached out a hand and obstructed one of the streams of light. It warmed his palm, but Changyoon pulled back before the heat could settle into his skin. The light fell away from his hand and laid back to where Changyoon had found it, a long stream of uninterrupted light.

Changyoon turned back to his things, picking up another shirt to fold. His gaze, almost like there was a magnetic pull, returned to the window and looked out to his bleak view of the white fence that surrounded the property.

He placed down the shirt and walked over to open the window. The air that swirled in was cool and Changyoon took a deep inhale, breathing it in. He could already feel himself getting a bit stir crazy. He’s positive he’d stayed holed up in his apartment for longer than he had this house, but just knowing that he no longer had any choice in whether he could leave or not had him longing for even an ounce of the outside world.

But Changyoon didn’t linger at the window for long and soon found himself returning to his boxes, finding sparse trills of comfort from the swirls of cool air that breezed in and brushed over his skin every so often as he transferred his clothing from the boxes to his appointed dresser.

The day felt like it had taken eons to conclude. Last evening felt like a complete world away. Even memories of yesterday morning felt like a dream he couldn’t quite recall at this point.

Changyoon felt like he was about to shudder out of his skin when memories of what had happened earlier on in the day resurfaced. The residual anxiety still left tremors to reverberate down his spine when he thought back to it.

The finishing up of some extra chores around the living room and kitchen had been going well, but it was becoming obvious that they were running out of simple things to preoccupy their time and the retrieval party had yet to return home. Even though Hyojin did a good job of not making it obvious, Changyoon could tell that the added chores weren’t exactly something they were doing now because they actually needed to be done, but for Changyoon’s sake of having something to do.

It was when Changyoon was in the middle of investigating the kitchen cupboards as he put away the dishes he had cleaned earlier that Hyojin had kindly reminded him that he should probably contact his boss soon.

Which, no matter how kindly he had gone about it, set off a swarm of bees in Changyoon’s stomach.

Que, Changyoon shooting that down that suggestion before it could even breathe air. 

Like, yeah. Changyoon got it. He heard Hyojin loud in clear. But just because he could _acknowledge_ that it was something he ought to get over with doesn’t mean he would _actually_ do it. Changyoon had already dealt with a lifetime's worth of life unrooting and anxiety and fear in just the past 24 hours and if he could procrastinate subjecting himself to a new wave of all those emotions for at least a few more hours, he sure as hell was going to do it.

So, pointedly, Changyoon turned his back to Hyojin to water a plant whose soil was still damp from the last watering to complain loudly about why they weren’t just waiting for Seungjoon to return to water the plants.

And, sticking to the format of exactly how Changyoon’s last 24 hours of life had gone, that decision decided to come and bite him in the ass. 

Changyoon pulled his phone from his pocket, none the wiser, only to fumble it upon sight of the caller ID. He whipped round to Hyojin, eyes pleading for a way out of answering. Instead, Hyojin raised a single indignant eyebrow before turning his back to Changyoon to water the same plant that Changyoon had before.

With a shaking finger, Changyoon answered it before it could go to voicemail.

It was a terrible experience, to say the least. Changyoon had stuttered and fumbled over his words, throat threatening to lock up around his words at any moment. The call started out with his boss yelling upon answer, demanding answers that Changyoon tried to keep short and polite. Sorry for not answering sooner. Yes, the moped parked outside was the one he had yesterday. No, he couldn’t explain why he kept it overnight. No, he wasn’t able to come in anymore. I understand that I won’t be welcome back in the future. Thank you for the opportunity. And then, finally, the other end of the line went dead. 

The room was a stilted quiet for what seemed like an eternity, even though it must have only been around 30 seconds. Then, from the corner of his eye, Changyoon saw Hyojin approach him, slow and deliberate. 

Changyoon hadn’t even realized he still had his phone pressed up to his ear until Hyojin had come over and gently pulled his phone away before slipping it out from his fingers. The soft brush of fingers against his other hand felt far away, farther than where ever Changyoon’s mind had flown off to. It wasn’t until the touch became firm that Changyoon could feel himself return to his mind, grounded even further as Hyojin’s touch became a comforting squeeze. 

After a few seconds, Hyojin was able to catch Changyoon’s eyes. There, no words were exchanged, but Changyoon couldn’t deny the communication. He wasn’t quite sure what his side of the conversation looked like to Hyojin, but he was able to read the comfort in Hyojin’s eyes well enough that he squeezed Hyojin’s hand back.

That must have been good enough for Hyojin, for his grip lightened and then slipped away. Changyoon had to consciously keep himself from snatching Hyojin’s hand back.

Changyoon shoved his face into the shirt he had been folding, trying to keep the residual anxiety contained. If only he had listened to Hyojin, he thought, then the whole phone call could have been avoided. A few more seconds of having his face buried before he let out a deep sigh, returning to folding up the rest of his shirts.

His newly appointed dresser had been cleaned out of its old things when Jaeyoung had come by to grab the other furniture pieces, explaining that it would just be better to move all of these things out so that they wouldn’t continually barge into Changyoon’s space just to retrieve something.

Changyoon bit his bottom lip as a weird wave of emotion rushed through him, causing his eyes to sting with unspilled tears. And _fuck_ , what was he getting emotional over now?

His heart didn’t exactly hurt, but it did feel heavy and bloated in his chest. There was something about all of this that had Changyoon craving… something. 

He had never been an attached child, and that habit had easily slipped into his personality as an adult. His friends throughout the years had come and gone as easily as they had appeared. He had acquaintances that he would greet cheerfully if he ever ran into them back in his small hometown, but no one he’d consider a close friend.

Even with his parents, he was always a few steps outside their bubble, even while he was living with them. Oddly, his relationship between him and his parents seemed to have become something almost professional, as most dinner time talks would be about produce shipment schedules or what changes his dad would like to see be implemented at the family business.

So why was he upset? Why did his heart hurt when Jaeyoung had taken the rest of the residents' personal items from his assigned bedroom? 

And why did the thought of the residents here being suspicious of him just make him angry? Somewhere deep down, Changyoon understood that they had a right to be cautious of him. Changyoon would also hold a healthy amount of suspicion towards anyone who basically barged into his life unannounced, he couldn’t even imagine what it must be like for them with Changyoon’s sudden and extended stay in their tiny home.

But Changyoon couldn’t help but think Yuto’s amount of suspicion of him was a bit much. While he thought that Seungjoon’s acceptance of him was a bit unearned, Yuto’s amount of trust issues with Changyoon’s appearance was also unearned. It wasn’t like Changyoon was poking around in their stuff or trying to keep himself here. If anything, Changyoon felt like he was the one out of all of them—besides Yuto—who wanted him to leave the most.

What was it that they thought Changyoon might be when he had arrived? A business rival? Was that a common practice in the witch world? A different coven member infiltrating to get the trade secrets on another coven’s business? Was that why they had security measures up in the first place? Changyoon really didn’t know anything about what could have been considered ‘common practice’, since he had stumbled into a world that he had never even heard of, much less known the customs of. 

Changyoon would have thought that Hyojin and Yuto’s level of suspicion towards him might have just been how covens deal with outsiders if not for the way the other three acted towards him. The stark contrast in how they dealt with Changyoon struck a chord deep in him. It made him wonder if there was something more to the deep suspicion Yuto harbored towards him. It was so different from how Seungjoon and Jaeyoung treated him, kind and open while answering all the questions Changyoon had easily. Minkyun was still to be decided, but at least he didn’t treat him like a threat.

But what exactly about Changyoon’s presence here labeled him a ‘threat’ in Yuto and Hyojin’s eyes? And what did Hyojin mean by saying that it “didn’t matter if he knew or not” about the so called magic inside him? 

There were just so many questions that Changyoon wanted the answer to, so many thoughts swirling around and around in his mind, it was making him dizzy. 

God, Changyoon wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to dealing with so much anxiety, so much uprooting and so many unanswered questions that he actually wanted to answer to. Wasn’t used to _caring_.

He sniffed hard and swallowed roughly around his dry throat, convincing himself that this was fine. That he was fine and that this was just something he was going to have to adapt to. But it was so _hard_. He wasn’t used to so much change in his life. He’d never learned how to deal with it.

Just then, there was a firm but confident knock on his door. Startled, Changyoon dropped the shirt he had been holding this whole time, his hands gone still with how deeply he had been thinking.

He wasn’t sure who he had been expecting, but to Changyoon’s surprise, it was Jaeyoung.

“Hey,” said Jaeyoung, a friendly smile on his face. Changyoon had to look up to see it since Jaeyoung was closer to the ceiling than the floor.

“Uh,” said Changyoon, feeling awkward. Was he supposed to invite him in? It wasn’t even his own room, this was their house. “How’s it going? Did you forget to grab something?”

Changyoon shifted his weight from side to side a few times before finally moving to the side, enough to be interpreted as an invitation if one wanted it to. And Jaeyoung must have, for he floated down a bit, just enough so that he could glide through the door. Changyoon hesitated, feeling a bit off and debating if he should close the door or not, before shutting it just enough so that it deliberately hung a few inches open.

“Oh, no, just wanted to come check up on ya,” said Jaeyoung as he floated down and down until Changyoon’s bed sank with his weight as he made himself comfortable. “How’s the unpacking coming along? Anything I can help with?”

Changyoon stepped up to his previous position in front of his appointed dresser and dully took in the four boxes of stuff the home invading party had bestowed onto him. 

Changyoon really didn’t want to think too hard about the fact that his life had shrunk down so much in such a little amount of time. Sure, the rest of his things left in the apartment weren’t _gone_ , but it sure did feel like it.

When they had returned, it had been a little over two hours since they had left. Jaeyoung had been carrying two of the boxes, Yuto with one and Seungjoon with the last one. When Changyoon had looked up at their arrival and realized that this was all they had brought, he couldn’t help but think, _That’s it?_

Less so in an ungrateful manner, he was more than grateful to have some of his personal things to make him feel like he wasn’t _completely_ mooching off the household. More so, it was the crushing realization that his life had dwindled down to the size of whatever could be stuffed into four boxes. Not even the clothes on his back were his own.

“I’m good,” replied Changyoon as he reached into the first box again, quick to fold up the pair of pants he had pulled out. “There’s not much to deal with anyways.”

“Sorry that we didn’t grab more,” apologized Jaeyoung with a frown on his face. “Half of your things were still in their own boxes, so we figured the things that we out were the things you’d probably want most.”

Changyoon could feel the tips of his ears heat up at that. “Well, I had just moved in so.” Which was a lie. It’d been a month since he had moved in, plenty of time to unpack.

Jaeyoung stayed quiet at that and Changyoon could feel his eyes on him as he clumsily folded up the rest of his clothes.

“Well, if there’s anything else you need, I’d be happy to go grab it,” said Jaeyoung, a hint of worry making its way into his voice.

Changyoon sighed at that and reached down to break down the now empty box. “No, this is fine. Thank you.”

“Of course. And the offer still stands,” said Jaeyoung. Changyoon turned and watched Jaeyoung roll onto his back, making himself more comfortable, a content look on his face. Changyoon took note that Jaeyoung probably didn’t even realize what he was doing. It was his bed anyways. 

Changyoon worked on the second box in silence. It was easier to unpack since all it contained were a bunch of electronics. His laptop, Switch, a bunch of charging cords that the group probably snatched up just because they were laying out. Changyoon identified his camera charger, but no camera. Changyoon debated asking Jaeyoung if he could go retrieve it, he knew exactly where it was too, tucked away in his nightstand drawer, but thought better of it. What would he even take pictures of? Their stunning canyon painting and band poster decoration?

Again, Changyoon felt eyes burning into the back of his head. He could tell there was more Jaeyoung wanted to say, but Changyoon would be damned if he brought it up first. Maybe he was curious as to why Changyoon was practically living out of boxes in an apartment all by himself? Maybe it was a more general question, like why the fuck Changyoon had come barging into their cozy little family unannounced, completely rewriting what they had intended to do with their days with now having to cater to Changyoon’s presence there. Changyoon wanted the answer to that one too.

Before he even realized it, Changyoon had finished unpacking. And by that, he had just moved all the contents of the boxes to either inside the dresser or on top of the desk. He tried his best to at least organize it so that it didn’t look like just a clutter of crap, but there was only so much he could do.

And Jaeyoung was still there. Changyoon turned and noted that he had closed his eyes at some point, his arms crossed behind his head, but Changyoon knew he wasn’t sleeping. Jaeyoung said himself that he would go floating off if sleeping. 

“Yuto seemed in a good mood,” said Changyoon as he sat down on the bed, in the farthest spot from disrupting Jaeyoung, finally interrupting their extended silence. He wasn’t even sure why he was bringing _this_ up specifically. Maybe because Changyoon had to take a double take when they returned and Yuto was laughing boisterously, his smile almost too wide to fit on his face. From Changyoon’s interactions with Yuto, he hadn’t seemed like the type.

“He was. He doesn’t get out too often,” answered Jaeyoung simply.

“Why not?” Changyoon remembered the small spat between Yuto and Hyojin. It seemed weird to Changyoon that Yuto needed certain chaperones when he went out, but Changyoon had just chalked it up to witch weirdness and that Yuto looked like he was the youngest in the group, so they were more protective of him. Was there more to it?

Jaeyoung cracked open an eye to look at Changyoon, but other than that, he didn't move. After a few seconds of lingering silence, Jaeyoung just shrugged. Changyoon huffed at that.

“I know that like,” Changyoon gestured around with his hands, trying to find the words he wanted to say. “That I’m—,” Changyoon cut himself off at that before deflating. Was it really his place to demand answers from him? It seemed personal, and Jaeyoung seemed reluctant to answer. It was probably coven business, which meant it wasn’t any of Changyoon’s business. “Nevermind,” settled Changyoon.

Jaeyoun sat up until he could catch his weight onto his elbows during Changyoon’s floundering. Changyoon looked over and he found sadness in Jeayoung’s eyes. Or more specifically, pity. Changyoon looked away, a frown settling deep on his lips.

He felt the weight on the bed shift again before a soft weight landed onto his shoulder, careful not to irritate any wounds Changyoon might have had there. Changyoon had been expecting Jaeyoung’s hand but jumped a bit when he turned and saw Jaeyoung was leaning his head onto him. Changyoon stiffened up, unsure what to do. It didn’t feel… wrong. But it did feel infinitely more familiar than what Changyoon was used to, from anyone.

“Yuto was also happy to see that it didn't look like you had previous knowledge about magic. He couldn’t find anything that would hint that you already knew about Magicians,” said Jaeyoung as he leaned back, taking his head off Changyoon’s shoulder but not retreating much farther than that. 

“So you guys _were_ snooping around my things,” huffed Changyoon.

“Nothing too invasive,” Changyoon interrupted him with a snort, “I swear!”

Changyoon rolled his eyes before he felt a finger poke his cheek.

“Well, _I’m_ happy to see that you aren’t too mad about it,” said Jaeyoung with a wide smile. 

It was then that Changyoon realized that he had been smiling.

Jaeyoung had then turned to make fun of how organized all his stuff looked on the desk and Changyoon squawked and complained and gave Jaeyoung a hard time about how they kept their entertainment center, Jaeyoung laughing the whole time.

After an hour of petty fights and poking fun and a few laughs, Jaeyoung took his leave, citing that he should go and get ready for bed.

After he left, Changyoon grabbed his face wash off the desk and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed himself. As he stared at himself in the mirror, he took note of his faint smile, still present on his lips. Changyoon realized that during that hour, for the first time since he entered the house, he didn’t feel like he was intruding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get this chapter outta my face, I'm so tired of looking at it.


End file.
